The Prodigal
by Coilerfan35
Summary: Miranda Lawson was supposed to be the image of perfection, but to what extent of torture did she have to go through to prove her own humanity? A story of imperfect perfection, starting from the beginning. Future Miri/Sheploo
1. Prologue

Ever since he was a child, he had dreamed of perfection. At times in his life, as he grew up in beautiful, sunny Australia, he believed he had found perfection, but he was picky, and extremely observant, and managed to find even the smallest of flaws. The nights he stared at the stars, he recognized that they were simply light that was just now reaching Earth, and that, in reality, those stars have long since died. When he viewed nature, he recognized that nature was a dangerous force, and that one wrong move could cost you your life. And humans...humans were the most flawed, but as a child with a very imaginative mind, he was able to formulate his image of perfection, and cherished this picture as he grew into a man. As he grew wiser, his picture grew more vivid, until he could swear that every time he closed his eyes he could reach out and touch this woman floating just beyond his reach.

She was beautiful, as perfection should be, with blazing cobalt eyes and dark hair that fell around a pale face that practically screamed sexual appeal and an overwhelming power that was held just below the surface. She was thin, but curvy; toned in the some places, and buxom in others. She spoke with a sultry voice, thickened with an Australian accent that followed his personal nationality, but in his mind her words were fuzzy, and unable to be heard as proper English. Cockiness was held in her shoulders and face, and her confidence was a strong asset to her personality. She was strong, and a woman with as much wit as her beauty.

She was amazing, and perfect in every way, but, like every other aspect of perfection, she had her flaws.

Her only flaw, was that she wasn't real.


	2. A Normal Day

**AN: Alright, I'm a little rusty when it comes to writing (sadly), but I'm going to attempt to create this story and keep it going. The beginning will be rough, because I'm running off virtually nothing when it comes to her life before Cerberus. Hopefully though, when it gets to Cerberus interaction, and the time that actually corresponds with Mass Effect 2, everything will be running smoothly.**

**All in all, this isn't going to be a cut and dry retelling of the game franchise, because Miranda has been sorely underdeveloped as a character, and far overdeveloped as a piece of ass for Cerberus to hide behind. Hopefully, starting from here and building forward, people will understand how I personally see Miranda, and I'll be able to form a better relationship between her and Shepard.**

**Like stated, I'm rusty, so if this and future chapters suck, forgive me as I try to get up to speed.  
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><p>Her name was Miranda, and the name fit her well. Pristine, and only sixteen years old, she was the definition of beauty and the image of simple perfection. With skin forged from marble, and eyes cut from pure sapphire, she could slip a vice around the neck of any man, woman, and child she chose to enchant. With a winning smile, a mysterious personality, and a voice like velvet, every word she spoke was heard, and every wish she had was granted. She was spoiled, but not even her natural charisma could stop the torture her father put her through every night.<p>

The warehouse she stood within was forged from the strongest metal known to man, and the ground below her was pure, rough concrete. Metal walls were placed all throughout the warehouse, and the lights that were mounted on the railings of the ceiling were dimmed to the point where she could barely see three feet in front of her. Nervous, her fingers clenched, and she felt the usual fire of her biotics circle her arms before the ominous blue glow painted her skin and circled around her as if the energy was a ferocious beast, curling around its master in hopes of protecting her from any form of danger. Logically, the doubts weighted down her mind as she recounted the information that human biotics were only so powerful, and that they leaned heavily on the amp that was placed within their neck, but in the presence of imminent danger, she knew she couldn't, and wouldn't fail.

The ground under her began to shake, and her head rose to view the hanging lights swaying back and forth. Vibrations shot through the concrete floor and went straight for her knees, making her wobble slightly, and pitch forward from the circle in the middle of the warehouse where she was always ordered to start. The second she straightened, she gasped, and watched as the heavy mech walked into the warehouse, and turned directly towards her. Raising it's cannon, Miranda quickly crossed her wrists, and threw up a small barrier before the mech shot a missile right towards her chest.

The force of the contact threw her backwards, and she cried out as she felt the concrete tear apart the skin of her back as she slid to a halt. The pain blinding, she quickly moved behind cover and clenched her teeth as the cool metal pressing into her torn back absorbed the numerous rounds of shots fired from the mech's main gun. Rising from cover, her biotics flared and she quickly overloaded the mech's shields, leaving it with only armor and its basic health meter. But the mech was a designed killer, and the failure of its shields activated something deep within itself that increased its rate of fire, and use of missiles.

Ducking back into cover, Miranda attempted to size up her situation, but the mech fired another missile that obliterated the wall she hid behind. Charging towards the other side of the warehouse, she rolled behind another slab of metal, but the sharp concrete grinding against her already torn back caused a shot of pain to pulse through her and cripple her thought process. Shaking from the stinging sensation, and eyes blurred with unshed tears, she pushed forward and attempted to lower her opponent's armor levels with one biotic shot after the other.

Stray bullets bounced towards her, and as she rose from behind the metal shielding, one of the high-velocity bullets slid right by her extended arm, and instantly tore the skin apart. Crying out in pain, she pulled her arm back and shrunk to the ground behind her cover. Clenching her teeth tight enough to cause headache, and pushing down the bile that was rising in her throat, she squeezed her arm before pulling her hand back to properly view the gushing wound. Torn flesh remained where flawless skin had been moments ago, and crimson, sticky ooze flowed steadily from the gash; slowly painting the concrete a sickening red-black color.

Grabbing for the bottom of her tank top, she ripped off a piece of fabric, and tied it around her arm. Head swimming, she turned back to her enemy and overloaded the mech once more, taking it's armor down to zero, and leaving it open for a final attack. Hauling herself to her feet, she remained out of sight, and waited until the mech was in a proper position before she fired her biotics and charged at the mech at full speed. Energy pulsed around her, and the pressure gauges routed through the warehouse tipped into dangerous levels as she slammed her glowing fists into the mech's hard shell and sent it crumbling to the ground.

Panting, she attempted to stand from her crouched position, but only managed to stay on her feet for three seconds before she fell to her knees once again. Weakly, she looked at the carnage of the mech and sighed, feeling weak and on the brink of passing out from the mass expulsion of energy. Even though she knew how to use her powers, they weren't her own, and one of the greatest scares of her life was the rejection of the asari eezo nodes that were imbedded close to her heart nine years ago. She remembered loosing the week after her surgery, and remembered waking up sure she had come back from the dead. She had slipped into a coma when she was seven, and she knew her father couldn't care less.

"End," the mechanical voice echoed through the warehouse, and the lights brightened; revealing that Miranda was beaten up more so than she believed. The entirety of her right arm was covered in blood, and red liquid still continued to pulse from the opening. Every slight movement of her shoulders sent tears streaming down her face, and her exhaustion and dehydration sent her falling forward into an abyss of black.

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><p>Henry Lawson sighed as he watched from the surveillance area attached to the training warehouse. Cameras zoomed in on Miranda's unconscious form, and he felt a vague sense of annoyance rising before he reached over onto a nearby consul, and pressed a small red button. In the far reaches of his facilities, the medical officials were alerted and mobilizing to retrieve his creation for the fifth time in the past three weeks. Beside him, an armed soldier stood silent and menacing in the shadows; his face covered by a helmet. Turning to view the soldier, Henry shook his head and ran a hand down his face.<p>

"I don't understand it," he started, his Australian accent thick and saucy. "She showed so much potential...but she's growing weak."

"Perhaps your training is too difficult," the soldier replied with a voice darker than sin, and an almost evil accent that Henry couldn't place geographically. "Heavy mechs are tough enemies, sir. It usually takes three men or more to take one out."

"But you saw her out there, she was doing everything right, but slipped up enough to cause serious injury," Henry stated, moving closer to the window were he could look into the warehouse. Sighing, he watched as the doctors moved Miranda onto a stretcher and rolled her out of the room with haste and a plethora of medical equipment in tow. "This is happening far too frequently..."

"Lower the intensity of her sessions."

"No. That's no way for her to learn."

"Keeping the intensity that high won't keep her alive either, sir."

"If she can't manage to stay alive under my guidance, then she isn't perfect," Henry spat, turning on his heel and facing the soldier with blazing brown eyes. "She isn't some pitiful child I found on the streets and bribed into doing this. She is a creation, and one that is supposed to be better then any human born of normal birth. She is powerful, but the frequency of her injuries have proved...troublesome. No doubt she'll be better in a few days, and that Niket kid will keep her company until then, but...as the days pass, I feel like she isn't enough."

"What do you plan to do then sir?" the soldier asked, his voice unwavering and his mannerisms unaffected by the scientist's outburst.

"I'll tell you," Lawson stated, stroking his chin contemplatively, before he moved to the consul and projected surveillance footage of his lab on the wall. "As we speak, my newest creation is growing in a solution rich in nutrients needed to sustain human life. She is Miranda's genetic twin, but I realize that genetics are as much chance as science, and though Miranda is close, she isn't perfect. This one though...I think she's it."

"But what of Miranda? There isn't need for two perfect humans."

"No there isn't," Henry agreed, turning to the horrifying soldier that seemed to meld into the shadows around him. "That's where I'll need your help. In one week, Oriana will be prepped for extraction, and will be introduced to life in this world. She will be monitored for stability for ten days, and if she proves healthy, I will order the official requisition to have Miranda terminated. This will be your job, as will be the disposal of her remains. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

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><p>The lights of the hospital wing were blinding when Miranda opened her eyes hours later. Her body felt numb and her extremities refused to work as she attempted to reach for anything solid to pull her back into consciousness. A soft grunt left her lips, and the slightest turn of her head blinded her with a flash of hot white pain. Tenderly, she felt a hand on her cheek, and she groaned pitifully as she turned to see who was by her side.<p>

As expected, it was Niket; one of the doctor's son who lived within the facility when his mother picked up a steady job caring for Miranda after her father's training sessions. He was dark skinned, with eyes as black as coal and scruffy black hair to match. He was a happy kid, and quickly befriended Miranda when they first met; taking her away from her boring nights sitting in her room and showing her the world that existed beyond the facility they both deemed as 'hell'. They spent countless nights on the roof, staring at the stars and talking about anything and everything that passed their adolescent minds. He was kind and caring, and every time she woke in the hospital wing, he was always at her side; holding her hand and caressing her cheek.

"There she is," he smiled as his fingers fell to link with her own. "Good morning beautiful."

A small smile touched her lips, and her fingers tightened around his own. "Hi, Niket."

"How are you feeling?" he asked, running his fingers along her arm in a gentle caress. "Do you need me to get my mom?"

"No, it's fine," she mumbled. "I'm still fuzzy from all of the sedatives. I can't feel much of my body except for my bloody back."

"I didn't see anything, but mom said it was pretty gruesome," Niket said sadly, his empathy for the poor, abused woman showing plainly on his delicate features. "You basically have road rash all the way down your back...except the concrete churned up your skin a little bit more."

"Thanks for the visual," Miranda huffed in disgust. "As if the pain wasn't enough."

"At least you didn't break anything, and that bullet to your arm didn't sever your brachial artery and cause you to bleed out. It was dangerously close, but a measly mech isn't going to take out Super Miranda, now is it?" he teased, absently playing with her fingers as she watched with hooded eyes.

"Yeah, well...I don't feel too super, and I'm sure my father doesn't either."

"Who cares what he says?" Niket asked, looking at her and tilting his head. "He may have created you, but everything you have become is your own accomplishments. You took down a heavy mech solely with your biotics. That's difficult for asari commandos."

"But I ended up getting scraped up off the floor," she muttered. "He'll see that as a failure. I do everything in my power to please him...but dammit, I'm not indestructible. And frankly, Niket...I'm scared what he might do because of it."

"Miranda...listen to me," he stated with a voice full of force. "No matter how crazy your father is, and no matter what lines he tries to cross in making you more perfect then you already are, I will always be there to protect you. Nothing, and I repeat, nothing will ever happen to you as long as I'm alive. Got it?"

"Got it," she nodded, smiling and tightening her hold around his hand once more before a doctor pushed their way through her doors and moved into her field of vision.

Standing side by side, it was obvious that Niket and his mother were related. They had the exact same skin tone, face shape, and deep coal-colored eyes. Not only that, but they both embodied a loving spirit that drove them to help anything and anyone that needed it. Their selflessness drove Miranda to envy countless times, but when she confessed her feelings to Niket, he was quick to tell her that she wasn't the one that needed to be jealous.

"Hi, sweetie," the woman she knew as 'Marge' said. No matter how many times she tried addressing Niket's mother with her professional title, the loving woman was quick to see her as her daughter, and demanded that she be called by 'Marge' and nothing else. "How are you feeling."

"Sedated."

"Perfect," Marge smirked, reaching up and tenderly running her fingers through Miranda's dark hair. "You took quite a beating today. I'm glad you woke up as quickly as you did. Are you feeling any discomfort? Your back, arm, or head bothering you?"

"I feel pain, and it's uncomfortable, but it hasn't reached the stage of 'unbearable' yet," Miranda murmured as Marge took care of her and Niket refused to let go of her hand.

"Well, I'm going to up your sedative dosage after a quick brain test. I want to make sure you passing out didn't damage anything, and that you're safe to go back to sleeping without a coma scare," Marge said, before she placed her fingers under Miranda's chin, and shined a bright light into her eye. After careful examination, she nodded, and pressed a button that allowed sedatives to travel through her IV and into her arm. "Get some sleep darlin'. You'll feel better soon."

Smiling softly, Miranda turned her head and drifted off to sleep, leaving Niket holding onto her hand and staring at her face that was marred by cuts from her fall. His mother settled a strong hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to her and smiled, before she turned to leave her son be. In a room full of silence, Niket brought his hands to his forehead and reveled in the feel of Miranda's cool skin against his own. Every part of her was soft, beautiful, and utterly perfect, but even after years of knowing her, he couldn't keep her out of the hospital.

Or out of his heart.


	3. The Beginnings of a Plan

**An: I thought I would just throw this chapter up today. I already had it written, and I managed to finish typing the rough draft of the next chapter (which...is fun) so I thought, why not, and while my minecraft adventure maps download, I'll upload this. :D**

**I'm surprised I got such a positive feedback. I was sure my writing was horrendous, but I'm glad that the little bit of skill I have is enough to entice readers. Once more, this might seem boring, but the next chapter, for sure, is adventurous. (I'm sure many of you who are familiar with the game know where I'm going.)**

**Anyway, Happy Zombie Jesus day to those of whom it applies. And to all, enjoy. :)  
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><p>It had taken three days for her to recover, but even then, Marge managed to give Miranda a break and convince her father to stall his sessions for a least a week so she could heal properly. When their words quickly escalated, the commotion could be heard in every corner of the facility, and his sudden disappearance afterwards unsettled Miranda. Sighing shakily, she looked out into the Australian night sky, and timidly brushed her fingers against her knee. He was never one to just up and disappear when he was upset, and it seemed that Marge managed to anger him beyond a measurable level. Wherever he was...whatever he was doing, it was something that scared her, and not even the gorgeous glow of the full moon was enough to calm her.<p>

A soft knock rang through her room, but she didn't need to answer. Slowly opening the door, Niket entered and moved to stand by her side. Smiling, he leaned against the wall and observed the bandages that still hung around her arm, and the small cuts that still remained on her face. "Something on your mind?"

"Your mom managed to royally piss my father off," Miranda whispered. "And I'm grateful for that, but nobody has seen him for the past couple days, and I know something is going on. He's probably hidden somewhere in his lab formulating his plan to get rid of me once and for all."

"Why would he do that?" Niket asked, trying to follow her gaze out the window even though he knew she was looking far beyond the skyline. "He's spent so much time raising you, and the money that he's spent to create and train you is astronomical. More credits have gone into you then the expedition that discovered the Prothean archives on Mars."

"Because he has found something wrong with me. The fact that I'm constantly being injured is a nuisance to him, and he's growing tired of it. He'll replace me, it's just a matter of time, and after that he'll send one of his assassins to put a bullet in my head and bury me somewhere deep in the mountains," she spat, turning towards Niket with eyes full of fire. "He's a bastard. A damnable, unrelenting bastard. He's the one that deserves to die, not me."

"Well...we both agree on that, but if your so certain he's going to hurt you, why don't you just leave?" he asked quietly. "You're quiet. You can sneak away and get to the space port nearby without tripping a single switch. You could disappear...be safe, and wouldn't have to worry about your father or his goons following after you."

"I stay because I don't know for sure what he's going to do," she answered. "I need to figure out his plan before I create one of my own."

"Oh."

"And you," she added softly. "Niket, you're the only friend I have. I couldn't leave you behind. And if I did he would come after you...torture you, and Marge as well. You two would be the only people who would know where I've gone, and I would bet billions of credits on the fact that he would do everything in his power to find me, and kill me...even if that means killing you."

"But...Miri, if you stay here, who's to say he won't keep hurting you, and throwing you into the hospital wing? Sure, you heal quickly, but you can still be killed."

"I know," she sighed, hiding her face in her hands. "I don't know what to do, Niket. I just...I don't know what to do."

"Hey," Niket soothed, stepping forward and crouching by her side. "How about we get out of here? Go for a walk, or something. It might help you feel better."

Sliding her hands down her face, she glanced out her window once more before she turned back to Niket and smiled. Nodding she slipped from her perch within her window and slid a black hoodie over the white tank top that comfortably hung around her damaged back. "Yeah, let's stop by the kitchen first though. I'm starving."

"We just had dinner," the boy marveled, opening the door for Miranda and following after her as she walked down the hallway.

"I'm a biotic, I have to eat a lot of food..."

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><p>Sneaking past Henry's security, Niket and Miranda moved onto the roof, and quickly found their way to the edge that overlooked the large lake on the other side of the mountain the facility was built into. Jumping onto the edge, Miranda rested her back against the building's wall and opened the paper bag given to her by one of the cooks. Smiling, she dove in and pulled out a large cookie covered in chocolate.<p>

"Now, I'm sure your father's nutritionists won't be too happy with that," Niket laughed raising an eyebrow as he watched his friend tear into the sugar filled treat. "What the hell is that anyway?"

"An Oreo cookie dunked in chocolate," she murmured through a mouthful of her treat. "And who cares if the nutritionists get pissed? It's my body, and I'm the one doing all the work. If I want a treat with enough sugar to send me into cardiac arrest, then by God I'll have it."

"Such a daredevil," he laughed as he leaned against the roof's edge with his forearms planted next to her feet.

"Hey, I have to live sometime, don't I?" she teased, as she licked the chocolate from her fingers and extended the bag towards Niket. "Want one?"

"No way, too much sugar for me," he stated, chuckling when she shrugged and pulled another into view. "I'll promise to catch you when you start to stroke out, so you don't end up falling forty feet to your death."

"How sweet," Miranda smiled, before sitting forward and crossing her legs under her. "What would I do without you, Niket?"

"Never get out of your room, never stop thinking, probably go on a homicidal rampage..."

"The last one still might happen, but I might not be the one doing it."

"Now, enough of that," he ordered, tapping his knuckle against her bare knee. "We aren't here to talk about everything that's happening, or what we think is going to happen. We're up here to relax, and try and get away from reality."

"It's difficult, Niket," she sighed sadly. "I know you're trying to put on a brave face for me, but you're just as worried I am, if not more. What can we do? We're teenagers, holed up in a facility close to the middle of no where, with my egomanical father lurking in the shadows somewhere with a cloth covered in chloroform and a butter knife."

"Now there's a sight I'd pay to see," he laughed, before leaning against the wall beside her and settling his hand against her thigh. "I seriously doubt he's armed with a butter knife. Maybe a spork or a really sharp stick."

"My money's on the spork," Miranda agreed. "Dipped in poison and ready to be jabbed into my neck at a moment's notice."

"I think you and I both can come to the conclusion that your father isn't that creative," Niket said playfully, both teenagers smiling and chuckling into the cool night air. "Hell, if he's wielding such a dangerous spork maybe you'll get lucky and he'll trip over his own feet and fall on it."

"We'll find some fishing line and weave traps in every inch of this building," she planned. "He'll never manage to get close to us quickly, that's for sure."

"Another wonderful idea, Miss Lawson. When shall we begin?"

"As soon as possible," Miranda smiled, before placing her bag of treats onto the concrete roof and leaning back against the wall once more. Absently, her eyes drifted up, and she observed the moon hanging high in the sky; a soft sigh leaving her lips.

"What's wrong?"

"Why do we, as a race of people, stay here?" she asked, her eyes locked on Luna. "After finding the Prothean archives, and developing the Mass Relays, why don't we all just leave and find somewhere else to go? To think we could be living on the moon, or on Mars, or on a colony in a beautiful world in an entirely different star system...but we're still just stuck on Earth."

"It's dangerous out there, Miri. Humanity is the little guy in the grand scheme of things. The asari, turians, and salarians are the big dogs, and this 'Council' that is perched somewhere in the 'Citadel' isn't doing anything to help us out."

"They never will, Niket, if they want to keep their iron grip on the other races. We have to make them realize that we can amount to something, and that we can be a benefit to the growing empire organic life is stretching through the universe. One day, we'll manage to get a human in the Council, and one day there will be a human Spectre to carry out the Council's will. One day they'll understand, but staying on our home planet is no way to prove it."

"If these are you aspirations, where do you plan to do all this?" Niket asked with a smirk as he watched the dance of emotions cross over Miranda's face.

"I'm sure there is an organization out there somewhere...Some group of people with my same thought process, who are hell bent on furthering humanity's place in the galaxy. I hear my father talk about Cerberus a lot...they're a part of the Alliance if I'm correct. A black ops organization. My father donates billions of credits to them every year-"

"But I've heard a lot of bad things coming from them," he argued, stopping her mid sentence. "What about the massacre on the SSV Geneva? When Cerberus operatives attempted to steal antimatter, but the assignment went wrong. They were all killed, and rightfully so."

"Do you think that any stretch of a government exists without a dirty history?" Miranda asked with a smirk. "The British Profumo Affair in 1963? The U.S. Watergate scandal in the 1970's? Boris Yeltsin bombing his own white house in 1993 and killing 187 people. And that's just things that have happened close to 200 years ago that still live on as a societal black mark today. What else has happened recently with _all_ galactic races that's been detrimental to life? Rogue Spectres, misuse of Spectre Requisitions, the bombing of new-born colonies, multiple batarian slaver attacks, the genophage? Sure, Cerberus has gotten into a few holes here and there, but in the grand scheme of things, they look like the good guys."

"So what? You plan to go to them?"

"My father is a benefactor, and I don't know how they would react if I ran away against his will, and tried to join their ranks. I don't know who their leader is, or where I could reach him. Hell...I wouldn't even know where to go to find anyone who was with Cerberus."

"Well...if you want, I can try and find out."

"But isn't the extranet blocked? I thought my father didn't want any outgoing communication except for himself."

"He doesn't," Niket smiled before gently tapping a finger against her leg. "But, I've figured out ways to get around his firewalls. It's primitive stuff. I could break through in my sleep."

"If you think you can do it without getting in trouble...I would appreciate it," Miranda smiled, leaning her elbow against her leg and resting her chin in her hand. "But only if you're sure you won't get in trouble."

"I promise, I'll be fine," he smiled, dramatically grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. "I am a master, after all."

"Well if you're doing that, what should I do? I don't want to be sitting in my room twiddling my thumbs all night."

"Miranda," Niket said seriously, tightening his grip on her hand and looking into her shimmering eyes. "Even though I'd rather not talk about the things your father is doing to you, or the things we think he'll do...you are right. He is a threat, and an imminent one at that. I know you worry about what you'll be leaving behind here, but trust me, the rest of us will be alright. We have to get you out of here and as far away as possible, so he can never find you, and never hurt you again. You said to leave this place you need to figure out his plan. We have our comm links, and we have our secret channel. I want you to wait until it's late, and find what it is you need to find. Just...keep me updated, and stay out of sight."

"But, Niket-"

"No, just...just trust me."

"I do trust you," she whispered tenderly.

"Good, now go. I don't want the guards to catch us coming down from the roof before we start breaking through firewalls and stealing credit chits," he said softly, before letting go of her hand and motioning to the door with his head. "Stay low, until you're ready to explore."

"I will," she smiled, before she turned on her heel and leaned up to place her lips against his cheek. "Thank you, Niket."


	4. A Potential Weapon

**An: Huzzah. Another chapter ready to be read...which really means that this chapter has been done for days and that I just now finished the chapter that comes after this.**

**I don't really have much to say before this, other then for you to read, enjoy, and review. Reviews are basically non-destructive crack, and any author is addicted. Be kind, and feed the addiction of the feeble. :D**

**Ah...but seriously. Review this.  
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**Enjoy! :D  
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><p>The military clock upon her wall struck 23:00 when she mobilized from her bed and started digging through her dresser. Finding her earpiece, she slipped it into her ear, and brushed her hair forward so the small piece of technology was hidden from view. Moving more of her clothes aside, she opened a compartment dug into the side of the wood and pulled out a thin black strap that looked like a plain bracelet. Pushing the sleeve of her hoodie back, she hooked the material over her wrist and pulled the fabric back over it. Bringing her arm forward, as if to check a watch, she tapped her fingers against the air above her arm and watched as a magnificent orange glow illuminated her forearm. After a small wait and some basic calibrations, her omni-tool appeared and she turned the device into standby before she rose and pressed her fingers into her ear.<p>

"I'm ready," was all she said. She knew he was listening, and she knew that the less words they shared over their network, the better.

"As am I," he replied. "Got your tech?"

"Yes, it's up and running," she answered, absently running her fingers through her hair, before she opened her door and turned down the hall towards her father's more 'secret' wings.

"Scan anything and everything you find interesting," he ordered. "I'll send what I learn to you, and I'll save a copy in case by some...happenstance...you don't get to read it."

"Understood," Miranda responded, before she fell silent and peered around the corner. Two of her father's guards were walking the other way towards the medical wing, and once they rounded the corner, she took off, and traveled to the hallway that led to the elevator. When she reached the closed metal doors, she activated her omni-tool and typed in a few commands; opening the locked down elevator.

"Don't take the elevator," Niket muttered quietly. "Go into the shafts."

"You undermine my intelligence," Miranda laughed as she walked into the elevator and waved her hand over the cameras; seemingly erasing her image from the security feeds. Closing the doors behind her, she grabbed onto the ceiling's grating, and planted her feet on the metal bars that circled the cart before she pushed the hatch open and easily pulled herself onto the top of the elevator.

Looking around her in the dark shaft, she sighed, and activated the light on her omni-tool so she could see where she was going. Jumping from the cart to the scaffolding that curled around the shaft, she moved over the cool metal and climbed the ladders until she slowly began gaining altitude and started moving into her father's corporate offices.

"You know," Miranda huffed, as she climbed up a relatively tall ladder. "Even though the elevator is sort of a no-go when it comes to infiltration schemes, it sure is more convenient..."

"And obvious," Niket laughed from the other side of the line. "Sending you the first bit of information. Found a little something on T.I.M."

On que, her tool beeped, and Miranda pulled herself onto the scaffolding above her before she stopped and directed her attention to her arm. Unsure of Niket's code, but not willing to risk speaking about it, she looked at the text forwarded to her from a secure extranet page.

_The Illusive Man was a normal civilian with a job and a family until the discovery of alien life. Not long after the Battle of Shanxi, an e-mail circulated throughout the extranet calling for humanity to take its rightful place and assert its power to its new alien contacts. Alliance intelligence could not locate the originator of the e-mail, but referred to him as an "illusive man" in press releases to try and dismiss the human-centric diatribe. The name stuck, and the Illusive Man founded Cerberus, a human-centric splinter group. He was responsible for breaking Cerberus away from the Alliance military._

Smirking, Miranda chuckled and muttered "Cute nickname," to her friend as she realized he was speaking of the Illusive Man. "I remember hearing about this. Do you?"

"Nope. Must have no cared when I was six."

"Well, I was seven, and I didn't care, but my father wouldn't shut up about getting an email like that. He was a maniac that week afterwards," she huffed as she began climbing further.

"Mind giving me a history lesson?"

"On what?"

"Shanxi."

"It happened before that email was sent. No doubt you've heard your mom talking about it...hell, everyone was talking about it. Shanxi was a human colony that was taken over by turians. Actually, it's the only human colony that has ever been occupied by an alien race. I think my father said something about General Williams being to blame. No doubt he wasn't viewed too highly by the Alliance after that," she explained easily.

"That name has come up a lot in these searches," Niket stated, as he leaned back in the chair before his terminal. "Most searches relating to Cerberus or T.I.M. bring up something about the Alliance, and the Williams family seems to have a family member in every military situation. They're probably one of those families that all served in some branch of the military when we were still grounded on Earth."

"You have quite the flippant tongue. Aren't you worried about someone hacking into our comm channel?"

"Nah, I have a comm channel security program running now. If someone tries breaking into our communication, I'll know, and I'll be able to encrypt our codes to the point where they won't be able to connect."

"Well, you just think of everything don't you."

"Not everything," Niket smirked, as he leaned forward and returned to typing furiously. "But...no one's perfect."

Rolling her eyes, Miranda continued to climb, until she reached the thirtieth floor and shimmied herself as close to the closed doors as possible. "I'm at the corporate floor, but this is going to be an iffy jump once I get the doors open," she muttered, turning to her omni-tool and typing in her commands once more.

"I have the security cams up. If you get in their now, you won't have any run ins with resistance. Usually the guards are evenly distributed throughout the floors...close to six each, right?"

"Yeah, why? Is something off?"

"Well, from what I see, there is only two on your floor. And it looks like that for the penthouse hallways and the floor below you. What has he done with all the others?"

"I have a feeling I'll figure it out soon," she grumbled as the metal doors finally opened, and she sighed. Stepping back as close to the wall as possible, she ran and leaped for the opening; flaring her biotics to push herself forward and into the offices. Landing roughly on her feet, she fell to her knees, but managed to stay quiet enough as to not alert the limited security that was lurking somewhere in the hallways. "Alright, I'm in. Closing the doors now."

"If you're aiming for your father's office, go now. His goons are on the other side of the floor, and they seem to be spending a good amount of time there. Probably raiding the faculty kitchens or something."

"Can you get a feed from his office?" she asked as she closed the elevator doors behind her and strode down the beautifully carpet hallway that lined a large span of cubicles. "Surely there are cameras."

"There are, but the feed has been cut," Niket answered. "I'd watch out if I were you."

"Well, I severely doubt he's quivering in his office. He probably just shot the feed because he knew were the cameras were. I'll scan for bugs when I enter, though. Just to be safe."

"Good idea."

Nodding, Miranda rounded through another maze of cubicles, and jogged towards the end of the hall where a large office completely circled by windows sat dark and untouched. Waving her omni-tool over the door, she waited as her codes locked into place and the doors swung open and allowed her entrance into her father's personal office. Stopping immediately, she swung her arm in an arc and typed absent letters and numbers. Waiting, she smiled as the layout of the room projected from her arm lit up in red in multiple spots. Typing a few more codes, the red lights dimmed to nothing, and she made her way over to her father's large mahogany desk. "This place was infested. They've been disabled."

"If you get on his terminal, and allow me to make a connection, I can bring them back online when you leave. They might be there to help take that bastard down a notch," he offered as he continued to scan the extranet and reached over to drink from the glass of water sitting on his desk.

"Not a problem," she stated as she booted up her father's terminal and typed in his password. "You know, for a billionaire hellbent on highest-level security, he's not very tech savvy. He has a password system out of the last century."

Chuckling in her ear, she heard a soft ping before a louder one sounded before her. "Sent the request."

Accepting the network connection sent from Niket, she gave him control over his hard drive and the multiple extensions that branched from his terminal. "Request accepted."

"Good. I'm routed to the right place. You can turn it off and keep looking. I wouldn't stay too long though."

"I know exactly where to look, Niket," Miranda stated as she turned off her father's terminal and crouched down beside his desk. Pushing his chair out of the way, she ducked into the small alcove cut out for an occupant's legs. On the right side, a small crack existed in the seemingly perfect hardwood, and she dug her nails into the crack to pull away the slab of wood that covered her father's secret hiding spot. Entering the proper four digit code, the metal lining behind the chunk of missing desk slid open, and inside rested a small chip. Placing it against her omni-tool, she allowed the information to be pulled from the disk's hard drive before she placed it back, locked the safe, and placed the block of wood back in place. "I'm done here."

"You work quick," he joked as he absently clicked on a few links here and there. "Damn, this organization is slippery. I can't find anything definitive on them except for a couple newspaper articles dating more than a year ago, and speculation by conspiracy theorists."

"Well, I know that their manifesto was published in 2157. Do you think that after ten years, they're still hanging around the Alliance?"

"No. You won't be finding anyone on Arcturus Station, that's for sure, but anywhere else is entirely up for grabs. No doubt they have hidden facilities in all sorts of star systems, but none that I'll be able to find out about. I can try and recover news footage and articles about Cerberus and see if they appear frequently in certain places."

"And you're linked with my father's terminal. Search his email, he might have some useful information," Miranda ordered as she slipped out of her father's office and found her way back to the elevator shaft. "You can reactivate the bugs while you're at it, as well."

"Got it. Where do you plan on hitting now?"

"The only other place where my father always is," she reasoned as she slid down the ladders to the scaffolding below until she reached the elevator cart and easily slid inside. "His lab."

"Ya know...that's probably where all the security has gone," he hypothesized. "And I'm being locked out of lab security from their end."

"Do they know it's you?" Miranda asked as she crossed from the elevator into the cafeteria, where metal tables and chairs gleamed brightly with the light of the moon.

"Nah. I'm just a little bug picking at their systems."

"Pick some more, make a distraction for me."

"Mmm, I love it when you talk dirty."

Laughing softly, she opened the far doors of the cafeteria and entered a hallway identical to all the others. "I'm going to sneak through the library, into the education ward, and then I'm going to slip into the training warehouse and make my way to his lab through the maintenance shafts."

"Tell me where you want your distraction, and baby, you'll have it," Niket said excitedly; cracking his fingers in anticipation.

"Well, a biohazard takes president over all security controls, correct?"

"Why...yes it does," he answered in faux surprise. "Level four I presume."

"Of course," she laughed as she slipped through the walls of bookcases that lined the library, and entered into the hallway that led to all of the classrooms. "If you want to trip a switch and corral them in A wing, I would appreciate it. It would give me ample time to search his lab in E wing, and make sure we won't meet anytime soon."

"Want me to add a little sting and make it a combo of four and three, so they all have to get vaccinations immediately?"

"If you think it's necessary."

"It'll give you more time, and who likes shots?"

"Go for it," Miranda smiled as she pushed through the door at the end of the education wing and stepped into an open courtyard across from the large metal rectangle her father called a 'training facility'. Jumping over the courtyard fencing, and running the distance to the warehouse, she slipped through the small door at the warehouse's far side and picked her way to the steps that led up to the viewing area. Stalling, she moved herself to the terminals, and waved her omni-tool over them; downloading the footage of her training sessions and other surveillance footage that had been routed through this particular terminal. "I'm above the warehouse," she muttered. "I'll be entering the shafts soon."

"Want me to start reeling in the cattle now?"

"Yes."

"Uh-oh, there's a fire in C wing guys!" Niket laughed as he shorted out the fire alarms from his terminal, and C wing's alarms blared as the sprinklers flooded the floor.

Placing her trust in Niket, Miranda continued forward and unlocked the maintenance shaft that was placed in the warehouse's viewing area. Crawling into the claustrophobic tubing, she locked the shaft door behind her and made her way through the mass of wires and splitters that made up the walls around her. Breathing steadily to keep her nervousness in check, she turned corner after corner until she felt herself nearing her father's lab. Stopping short from the end of the shaft line she brought her finger to her ear and pressed the small button on her ear piece. Across the line, Niket heard two small beeps, and immediately he understood that she was close to the labs, and didn't want to compromise her position by speaking.

"Give me a couple more minutes, Miri. There are a few stragglers. I'm locking the doors and herding them into A wing."

Sighing quietly, Miranda rested her forehead against her upper arm and clenched her teeth as an uncomfortable sting pricked at the bullet wound there. Shifting quietly, she closed her eyes and attempted to keep her breathing silent. She wasn't necessarily scared of being in cramped, or dark places, but being in such a vulnerable situation with the stakes as high as they were was slightly terrifying, and being stalled couldn't help her from thinking that her father was in the room above her, and that he could hear every breath that left her lips.

"You okay?" Niket asked quietly as he continued to work at his terminal. Two beeps filled his ear and he grabbed for his cup of water once more. "Just a few more seconds. Then I suggest getting in, searching for what you need and getting out as quickly as possible."

Two beeps followed once again, and Miranda inched slowly forward until she was right under the shaft opening. Omni-tool poised and her body tense, she waited for his go, and when she heard his affirmative in her ear, she tore into her father's lab and looked around the large room in awe. Moving to the northwestern wall, she observed all of the specimens he had preserved in dark colored glass jars. Scrunching her face in disgust, she moved to the messy desk that was settled in the office tucked into the wall that held her father's specimen collection. Scanning his terminal and searching through his files she picked up bits and pieces of information, but found nothing definitive.

Moving further into his lab, she jumped as a number pad automatically extended itself from the wall, and a synthetic voice asked for a pin number. Interest peeked, Miranda turned to the pad and held her omni-tool over the keys. Watching the picture formulate, she pushed the four numbers that showed the most wear in a few combinations until the pad accepted the pin and slid back into the wall. A click was heard to her right, and she watched as a part of the wall moved backwards, and then to the side to reveal another addition to the lab.

Timidly, she moved forward and into the darkened room. At the far edge of the cave-like den, a bright blue light shimmered on the metal and, ever cautious, Miranda moved further still. Stopping by the lab table shoved to the side, she opened a file and recognized pictures of donors that donated their DNA to her father over the years. Looking through the lists, nothing alerted her attention, so she turned her gaze to the blue light and walked around the pillar in the center of the den. Standing before the large capsule, her eyes widened and her hand stretched forward to touch the cool glass.

Within the blue solution – illuminated with a similar glow – floated a baby sucking on her thumb and resting comfortably in her watery world. Glancing to the terminal placed on a small desk beside the capsule, she turned it on and realized it was full of video logs. Placing her comm link with Niket on mute, she played a random entry from her father's collection, and watched as his face appeared between the two prongs that formed the terminal's monitor.

"_It's been done. I spoke to Wilkins after she was wheeled away from her training session. My latest project has failed, and the loose ends will be tied as soon as my newest creation proves healthy. I told Wilkins genetics were as much chance as they were science, so I stuck with the genome I had used before, and simply made a twin. Miranda was a good try, and she proved admirable until late. Her growing hostility to her namesake, and her falling survival rates in simulation have proved an unfortunate setback, and I regret that I have to do this, but...I have to do what I have to do for my project, my dynasty, and the promotion of humanity itself. Hopefully I'll do better with Oriana."_

Barely able to breathe, Miranda confirmed that the log was placed during her last training session, and turned back to the capsule. Stepping closer, she viewed the small child with equal amounts of interest and horror. The one created to replace her was her twin.

"I have a sister..."

"Miranda!" Niket yelled into her earpiece. "Miranda, what are you doing? I'm not getting any static from your line."

"Sorry," Miranda spoke up once she switched her earpiece off mute. "Must of hit something."

"I hope you found what you're looking for, Miri, because you need to leave now."

"Yeah..." she whispered, unfazed by the urgency in her friend's voice. "Yeah, I found something."

"Well, get out of there and I'll meet you."

"No...no I just...I need time to think about this alone, Niket."

"Wait, what is it? A weapon of some sort?"

"No," she answered in a voice laced with protective fire. "What I have found, will _never_ become one of his weapons."


	5. The Truth Revealed

**An: Another chapter. Enjoy. :)**

* * *

><p>The knocking on her door was incessant and unrelenting as she sat in the middle of her bed with her omni-tool poised and the data from her exploration slowly downloading. The bar that crept closer and closer to it's end was her ticket to freedom, and the finalization of her plan, but knowledge was a powerful object, and she didn't know exactly how this data would affect her. Silent, but with a reeling mind, she ignored Niket, and heard solely her own thoughts instead of the constant calling of her name from the otherwise taciturn hallway.<p>

"Miranda!" Niket yelled, slamming his fist against her locked door. "Please let me in. Obviously what you found is something huge...just, let me in and we can talk about it. Miranda...Miranda please."

"No, Niket," she snapped, though instantly wished she could take back her spiteful tone. "Just...I'll be fine. Please...leave me alone."

"Fine," he sighed, shaking his head and resting his hand on her door. "If you need me, you know where I'll be."

Sighing, Miranda placed her hands upon her face and rubbed at her eyes before her omni-tool beeped and she turned her attention back to her arm. Moving through the information she had, she moved off her bed and began syncing information from her tool to her terminal. Sitting down at her desk, she watched as the entries from her father's video logs loaded one by one before her. Interest peeked, she played the first of the five entries she took from her father's workspace, but not without nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

"_I've created another cell, but this is strictly precautionary. The solution the cell is resting in is created to slow the process of cell dividing as I continue observing my current creation...my daughter. She is marvelous...incredibly strong for a teenager, and more intelligent then most of the scientists I've had helping on this project over the years. I've quizzed her constantly, and she finds things such as astrophysics and microbiology elementary. There seems to be no bounds to what she can do, and she's more than willing to do it. I've yet to see her take on a challenge without a look of competition in her eyes and a resolute furrow in her brow. She very well might be it, and she is the first creation I've kept for good reason...but we are still testing, and still growing. One can never be too careful."_

Watching his face, tension in her grew, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She remembered those days well, when the training was easy, and her father was familiar. It had been close to a year since this recording was created, and even though she realized she shouldn't miss the man making her life hell, she did. Or at least, the man portrayed in this entry. The one who strove to create perfection and found a daughter instead. The one who would have laid down his life to save her without a second thought, instead of easily wanting her dispensed like now. The one who held her when she hurt, and picked her up when she fell. The one who cherished her, and saw her as more than a collection of cells that started in his laboratory.

The tears continued to fall as the second entry loaded entirely onto her terminal and signaled that it was ready to be played. Vision blurry, but uncaring of her inability to see, Miranda played the second entry and rested her cheek in her hand; eyes closed and refusing to watch her father's animated face. Instead, she only heard his voice, and the change in his tone was obvious. His words that were once full of admiration and love had quickly faded to sadness, colored with bitter apathy.

"_Miranda is still doing well, but we are growing apart. She is becoming rebellious, and is drawing away from my influence. Her argumentative nature is irritating, and her latest schemes are costing me millions in repairs. I don't want to do what I've planned to do, but I believe this is the only way she will listen. Her trainings will increase in frequency and intensity until she can come forward and admit that her father knows best."_

Every sentence was short and clipped, and every word felt like a stab to her heart. She had done nothing out of the ordinary for any teenager, but was being punished like a disobeying slave. A few pranks here and there got her thrown into the ring against a heavy mech, and the slightest twinge of an attitude sent her to the gym for a severe workout made to push her heart until it was close to exploding. Not only that, but the strenuous exertions never lasted only one day. One mistake got her weeks of punishment, and numerous days lost in the hospital wing.

"_She still hasn't come forward, and simply takes the trainings for what they are. She's hurting, but doesn't realize that all I need are a few simple words. I feel like a monster, but I can't stop. For her to be perfect, she must learn from me, and I cannot show weakness. It's a backwards principle, but the created must learn. They have to learn..."_

Chuckling dryly, Miranda shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. He was a madman, and she was observing his transformation from caring father into psychopathic scientist.. Not only that, but she was watching as she turned from a daughter, into a creation, and from a creation, into a failed experiment.  
>"So that's it. My existence, is just one giant failure," she stated to the unmoving air around her, her throat closing and her eyes damping once more. "I did everything he asked of me. I thought his trainings got harder because he thought I could do better. I've put myself on the brink of death time and time again to prove to him that I was still the daughter he always wanted. But now I'm nothing...except the holder of number one on his hit list."<p>

Pushing away her tears, she skipped the entry she had heard in his lab and listened to the last one, dated the day before.

"_I've watched back on my past logs, and I realize I miss the past, and the relationship I once had with Miranda, but, it seems that no matter what I do, she doesn't care anymore, and would rather fight me then return to the way we used to be. I've injected chemicals into Oriana's solution to speed up the final stages of her growth, and I hypothesize that she will be ready for extraction in the next day or so. She'll be placed in the medical wing's nursery, and I will have to reevaluate my course of action when it comes to raising her and teaching her how to be the perfect human. I have obviously failed with Miranda, but I dread placing my order. Though, if such a situation arises that warrants my intervention, I will not pause. This is her last chance, whether she knows it or not."_

Sucking in her breath, Miranda shivered and realized that the quarantine would have very well been enough to anger her father into placing a bounty on her head. She was in danger, but there were still unknowns that she needed to account for before any sort of action was taken on her part. For one, Oriana. There was no way in hell that she would leave her sister behind, but how would she ever get her? Was she still in her capsule, or had her father extracted her after the quarantine to finalize his plans and prepare Miranda's assassination? Secondly, where was this nursery? She had been in the hospital wing more times then she could count, but she never saw a room that remotely resembled a nursery, nor did life seem to find its way into the bellies of the women who worked throughout her father's facilities.

Realizing she wouldn't find out anything by sitting at her terminal wondering, she completely disregarded the current time and quickly left her room. Turning to the left, she followed the many hallways deemed for the residents of the facility and made her way through the plethora of single-person dorms until she came upon the one that Marge stayed in. Unsure of the woman's consciousness, but certain that she would have the answers to her questions, she knocked on the door before unlocking it and walking inside.

Looking around, everything seemed normal. The lights were turned off and the door to the bedroom was closed as if to suggest that Marge was sleeping. Walking in further, she heard the front door swoosh closed behind her and bathe her in complete darkness. Unnerved, and with her senses heightened, Miranda walked further into the room until she was toe to toe with the door that led to Marge's bedroom. Knocking timidly, she called out the older woman's name, but was met with silence. Overriding the lock, she moved into the woman's room and called her name once more – this time, louder.

"Marge," Miranda growled, walking to her side and resting her hand on her shoulder. "Marge! For gods sake woman, can you hear me?"

The woman didn't move, and Miranda was about to turn her over onto her back before she heard the slight murmurings of something odd. Eyebrow quirked, she moved closer to the sound whispering against her ear, and found that it was emitting from the comm system that was attached in every living quarters. A gentle cough floated through the room, before soft gaping sounds and senseless noises followed. After listening intently, she understood, and shivered at the thought of the events transpiring.

"That's Oriana," she whispered softly, pressing her fingers against the microphone. "He must have extracted her, and the feed from the nursery has been routed through Marge's room so she can respond if something happens." Quickly, Miranda waved her omni-tool over the microphone, and allowed the tracer to develop as she moved across the room and tried shaking awake the woman once more. "Marge! Marge, wake up!"

Forcefully, Miranda pushed the woman onto her back, and immediately gasped as her hand slipped forward as if she had just placed it upon oil. Moving to the bedside table, she flipped on the light, and felt the vice-like grip of horror dig deep into her chest. The hand that had just been touching Marge, was now covered in blood, and as her head turned to look at the older woman once more, she immediately felt sick and instinctively backed away.

The darkness had concealed her face, but in the light, Miranda could clearly see the open mouth and wide eyes that had formed Marge's expression before her life had been taken. Her dark sheets were stained, and blood had flowed onto the perfect white carpet below the mahogany bed. Her fists were curled in defense, but her age and vulnerable position proved her foe, and did nothing to help her escape the hands of death. From her position, Miranda couldn't see where all the blood had materialized from, but she had no time to move forward and investigate. The second her omni-tool beeped to alert her that the nursery's location had been found, two large, heavily armored men stepped through the door and turned to look at her without a second glance to the horrified woman decomposing in her bed.

"Miss Lawson," one guard said with a voice as dark as sin. "We've been ordered to find you. We're going to ask that you come with us."


	6. Leaving Earth

The terror she felt paralyzed her as the two armored men advanced on her and grasped her forearms. Their holds were tight, and they moved to shove her forward, but her instincts kicked in, and her biotics flared. Flames of blue shot from her body and into her assailants, sending them stumbling back in surprise. Planting her feet and tightening her fingers, she prepared herself for battle and her biotics seemed to darken to a deeper shade of blue. Anger replaced her terror, and as the first man stepped forward, she retaliated and shot out her arm so that he was sent flying through the wall and into the dorm's living room. Turning to the second soldier, he moved to flank her, but she easily rose her foot and kicked him square in the head before turning and using her biotics to place a solid upper cut through the plating of his armor. She heard his bones breaking, and the soldier cried out in pain, but she didn't stall her smooth strokes and slammed her fist into the man's helmet; shattering the glass and sending him sputtering and sprawling to the floor.

By the time she finished with his friend, the first man had recovered and was posted behind the couch with his gun pointed at her chest. Circling herself with barriers, Miranda moved into cover quickly and peeked through the hole in the wall to see where her opponent waited. A bullet flew for her head, but she pulled back just soon enough to avoid contact. Sighing, she inched closer to the door and kept herself out of range while she contemplated her next move. Deciding on going full throttle, she charged her biotics and allowed the power within her to fester before she pushed off from behind the door and zoomed across the living room; striking the first man with a force that left a crater in his chest.

The smell of freshly spilled blood hit her nose, and the man whose chest was curved around her fists slumped to the ground with a dull thud. Breathing heavily and shaking with fear, she turned around to look through the huge hole in the wall, and caught sight of Marge once more. Tears of sorrow and regret instantly fell from her cerulean gaze, but she had no time for mourning. Her father was mobilizing, Niket's mother was dead, and Oriana was still somewhere in the hospital wing. She had far too many things to do in such little time, and as the facility-wide alarm started blaring she realized her time was growing exponentially shorter.

"Shit," she cried as she ran for the door and bolted down the hallways. The doors to the dorms all started to glow red as the security protocol placed everyone on lock down. Attempting to run faster, she reached Niket's door before it locked, but when she opened it, the room was empty.

Cursing once again, she kept running, until she turned a corner and ran straight into Niket.

"Miranda," he huffed, his dark eyes wide with fear as he grasped her cheeks and physically held her gaze. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Thank God you're alive."

"I wish I could say the same for everyone," Miranda said shakily, her voice reflecting the stream of tears that still fell from her eyes. "Niket, he killed her. He killed your mother."

"I know," he said sadly, tears of his own starting to fall. "I've been listening in on his conversations all night, but listen to me. You have to get out of here. You don't have long, and if he sees you, he won't think twice to kill you."

"But...but I can't just leave," she argued, bouncing on her toes slightly as every nerve in her body went on high alert. "Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do? What about you? Niket, dammit I can't leave you behin-"

With a soft growl, Miranda's words were cut off as Niket silenced her with the strong press of his lips. Instantly, her hands grasped at his waist, and her eyes closed, despite the blaring alarms shaking the walls around them. As quick as he placed them there, his lips disappeared, and Miranda floundered slightly; eyes wide and confused while he regained the same broken, but strong expression he had had moments earlier. "Trust me, Miranda, you can leave me behind," he stated. "And you have to leave me behind. Go to the Citadel. There is a cargo ship at the spaceport destined to stop there. You have to catch it and get off this god forsaken planet as quickly as possible."

"But-"

"No buts," he interrupted, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into a fierce hug. "I'll be fine. I promise."

"Thank you," she muttered in a voice that was barely audible over the the screaming sirens. "For everything."

"I'll find you," Niket promised, tightening his arms around her and placing his lips against her forehead. "I swear on everything else that I have to live for, that I'll find you."

"Not unless I find you first," Miranda said through oncoming tears.

"Well, I guess we'll find out who's right eventually," he said, pulling away from her, but heavily regretting doing so. "Now go. His soldiers will be here soon, and you need to be as far from here as possible."

Nodding, she placed her hands on her friend's cheeks, and stood on her toes to meet his lips in a last, chaste kiss. Adolescent lips parting, she circled him in her arms once more and squeezed tightly before she whispered "I love you, Niket," into his ear and released him.

She left before he regained the ability to speak, and instead left him gaping in the dorm hallways with tear laden eyes and an angry twitch in his muscles. He could hear the soldiers nearing him, but felt every instinct within him rear up and order him to fight. Armed with only his fists, he stood open in the hallway and waited as the wave of men came tearing around the corner. Growling, he managed to slam his fist into the throats of one of the men, but the entire force didn't slow and ran Niket over.

The sound of the footsteps receded, but the blare of the alarm failed to stop as he laid broken and bruised on the ground. His eyes fluttered closed, and he softly whispered her name before he lost consciousness and fell into a dark world where she didn't have to run, and could have stayed in his arms forever.

* * *

><p>Heart beating, muscles aching, and lungs straining, Miranda continued to run at a dead sprint through her father's facilities. She followed her omni-tool, and had the doors to the hospital wing overridden before she even turned to corner and ended up at their doors. Quickly, she ran through the opening and fell into one of the trays of medical supplies from the force of her momentum and the lack of control she had in her legs. Straightening herself, she looked at her arm and panted heavily as she moved to where the tracker indicated, until she rested her hand against the eastern wall. Looking around, she attempted to find where to go, but, much like her father's cave, the place found her.<p>

A keypad identical to the one in her father's lab shot from the wall, and she scanned the pad to find that the same numbers had been highlighted. Racking her mind for the pin, she placed it in and watched as part of the wall moved to reveal a colorful room and a hospital crib settled in the middle. Walking forward, she smiled for the first time that night as her sister looked up at her with wide blue eyes. Placing her finger before her, Oriana was quick to grab it, and laughed softly when she saw Miranda's smile grow.

"Hi, Ori," she whispered, allowing the baby to hold onto her finger. "I'm sure you're scared, and all of these loud noises hurt, but I'm going to get you out of here, okay? We'll stick together, and I'll make sure we both get out of here alive."

Oriana did little to respond other than smile, and Miranda realized that she had wasted too much time and quickly scooped her baby sister into her arms. Holding her tight to her chest, Miranda rested her hand against Oriana's head, and kept her as still as possible as she exited the medical wing and started running away from the sound of footsteps that seemed to be down the hall. Oriana squirmed anxiously against Miranda's shoulder, but stilled when her little ear was pressed firmly against Miranda's neck. The erratic beating of her heart was calming to the child, and the baby remained placid in her arms as the alarms continued to sound and Miranda sprinted through the halls and into the library.

"She has Oriana," Henry screamed from the threshold on the library's northern wall. Stilling herself instantly, and allowing herself to blend into the shadows, Miranda held Oriana close to her chest as she peered around the corner of the shelves to lock her eyes on her father. Standing before one of his guards, his body was tense and his eyes wild as he screamed loud enough to be heard over the constant ring of the alarms. "Find the bitch, god dammit! She can't be far, and she has my daughter!"

The guard nodded his head, before turning and disappearing into the hallway without much haste. Gasping softly, Miranda fell back into the shadows and watched as her father walked across the length of the library and moved towards the doors that she had just snuck through. Moving between the rows of shelves, she remained undetected and unseen until her father disappeared from sight, and she took off in a sprint once more. Reaching the courtyard, she jumped the same fence she jumped on her adventure into her father's lab, but instead of moving to the warehouse, she moved to the expanse of land that rested between the facility and the town that the spaceport was located in.

Holding her sister close, she placed a loving kiss against the cap that rested on her little head, and continued to run forward. Knowing she could trip the turrets, she circled herself and her sibling with a biotic barrier that was hell to maintain when she was so tired and out of breath. The turrets rose from the defense towers of the facility and turned towards her with clear intent of murder, but holding her baby sister in her arms, Miranda found enough energy to uphold her barriers and her running speed. Sweat was pouring down her body, and she constantly wondered about Niket's well being, but a quick glance to the bundle in her arms put all thoughts from her head, except for the well being of her sister.

The turrets continued to fire rounds at her even when she had moved out of their boundaries, and somehow, a few bullets managed to hit her barrier, but once the spaceport was in sight the guns had stopped firing, and her adrenaline started to drop. Exhaustion hit her with a force she couldn't describe in words, and her legs felt gelatinous and unable to hold her own weight. As she walked, she stumbled from time to time, but managed to keep her footing as she neared the port and found the cargo ship Niket spoke of.

Moving onto the metal platform, she found a hiding place behind a large stack of crates that were being carried onto the ship one by one. The ship itself was small, but with the amount of cargo that was being packed into it, it was obviously quite large on the inside. Two lone men slowly walked back and forth, unloading the crates onto the ship with a hovering dolly, and returning to the stacks to load and unload once more. Picking up on their pattern was easy, and she basically walked onto the ship and made her way to the back where she knew she would never be discovered.

Hiding in an alcove of the crates, Miranda slid to the ground and lowered Oriana from her chest. Cradling the baby in her arms, she chuckled as the baby looked up at her with gleaming eyes that matched her own, and a serenely happy look on her face. Oriana reached for her sister with her short, chubby baby fingers, and Miranda indulged her want by offering her finger to the infant. Happily, Oriana held her sister's finger and pulled it into her chest as she would a beloved teddy bear.

Smiling, Miranda watched as her sister tightly held onto her finger, and released a soft yawn, before her large eyes closed and her grip slightly loosened. Oriana was asleep, but Miranda didn't dare remove her finger from her baby sister's chest. It was a comfort to the both of them, as the engines in the back of the ship fired up, and the adolescent Lawson felt the ship rise from it's place on the ground, and heavily accelerate towards space.

Miranda felt as the atmosphere pressed down on them, attempting to keep them on Earth's surface, but as soon as the pilot broke into the stratosphere the pressure leveled out and artificial gravity took over. She, the boxes, and her sister remained in their places, but outside, Earth was shrinking from their view, and the far reaches of the Sol system materialized before the pilot's eye.

And on this ship, a baby slept, with her exhausted sister refusing to sleep with her. Instead, her sister simply watched and protected; silent and unmoving as the Sol Relay approached and their star system jump sent them into a future undreamt of in their father's forgotten facility.


	7. Lost and Found

**An: Happy Tuesday! Hopefully, you guys are still enjoying this. If you do, leave a review, if you don't, have a nice day. XD**

**These chapters might be a little choppy, and I apologize for that, I try my best to fill in these gaps, but my anxious nature to actually get to the romance might speed up my writing and leave some things out. I'm still rusty even though I'm busting these chapters out, just work with me.  
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><p>Exhausted, and running on mere hours of sleep in the past couple days, Miranda jolted forward when the cargo ship came to a halt, and locks were placed to keep the ship in place. Tightening her arms around her sister, she groaned when Oriana let out a soft grunt, and mewled pitifully as she awoke from her peaceful slumber. Hushing the baby, Miranda kissed her head and stood from her seat nestled behind the boxes. Her legs were incredibly sore, and she doubted her ability to walk when she first placed her weight on them, but as the loaders moved in and started transporting the cargo to wherever it was destined to go, she had no choice, and snuck out of the ship without being seen.<p>

Gasping, Miranda stumbled further onto the docks before she stilled and looked about her in awe. Off in the distance, behind the ship she had just arrived on, the resident sun of the solar system peeked through the gap that was formed by five long metal arms. On these arms, bright lights created gorgeous patterns upon the metal where houses, and buildings, and entire mini-civilizations existed on this massive spacecraft. Aliens walked about freely around her, some dressed in blue and clearly marked as Citadel Security, some mere citizens, walking aimlessly about, admiring the same view she was. It was all so beautiful, and unremarkable, and she hadn't even gone inside yet.

"Excuse me, miss," a turian with a smooth voice said as he approached her on the docking bay. "We promote sight-seeing as much as anywhere else, but I'm going to have to ask for you to leave these docking bays. We have multiple ships coming in with cargo shipments, and I wouldn't want you, or the little human hurt."

"I understand," Miranda said, looking at the turian in hopes to mask the slight gnawing of fear she felt. "I apologize for the inconvenience."

"No inconvenience at all, miss," the turian said with what she could only assume was a smile. "If you follow the docking bay, you'll reach an elevator. This elevator will take you down into the C-Sec Academy. There are signs everywhere to point you in the right direction, and if you ever get lost, ask another C-Sec officer like myself, or you can use the many terminals that have been placed around the Citadel. These terminals will call up Avina, the Citadel's VI, who can tell you anything and everything you need to know about this place."

"Thank you," she nodded, and gave him a soft smile before she turned for the elevators, and stepped through the automated doors. Pushing the button on the far wall, she felt the cart jerk and start to move; the glass walls flashing as lights in the shafts passed by them on their descent. Back to sleep in her arms, Oriana was peaceful, but Miranda knew that she was hungry, and Miranda's own hunger pains were starting to make her sick.

The doors open, and before her opened a large academy bustling with members of almost every species. Humans, turians, and salarians bustled around, showing each other their tech and walking with their fellow cop to wherever their destination may be. Asari materialized here and there, talking to friends in Citadel Security, or asking members of C-Sec for help with whatever was going wrong somewhere else on the Citadel, and strange jellyfish-like aliens floated around speaking heavily of "Enkindlers". Overwhelmed, Miranda instantly found the first secluded C-Sec officer; another turian, but one far less friendly than the one she had met before.

"Excuse me," Miranda asked, catching the turian's attention, and obviously aggravating him from his current examination of something on the academy floor. "Would you mind helping me?"

"What do you want, human?" the alien asked without an semblence of respect.

"Sorry to be such a bother," she retaliated with equal amounts of sarcasm. "But, it's my first time on the Citadel...mind pointing me to wherever it is I get food?"

"Weak meat sacks...always needing something to sustain themselves," the turian huffed, narrowing his eyes and clicking his mandibles together before he pointed to the hallway behind him. "Follow this hallway, and take the elevator into the alleyway of the lower wards. Follow that hall and take the elevator to the upper wards. Walk to the end of the upper wards and there will be a collection of restaurants. Maybe there you'll find something to feed on...make you less puny."

"Well, you don't amount to much more than I, big guy," she said with a forced smile. "No doubt a craft this large needs constant maintenance, but you remain stationary...hiding behind an elevator and staring at the floor. What's wrong? Running from your boss? Or perhaps you're just lazy."

A soft cackle left the turian's lips, and his bright yellow eyes narrowed in anger. Stepping towards her, he attempted to intimidate the adolescent human, but she refused to back away, and simply stared up at the slightly taller creature. "I would watch my tongue around these parts if I were you. Humans aren't the most popular race on the Citadel. One little slip like that to the wrong person could end up getting you killed."

"I'd like to see them try," she hissed, stepping forward and surrounding herself in a deep blue aura that caused the turian to step back slightly. Emerging from around the elevator, another turian, one much taller and far more distinguished than the one before her, materialized before them and caused the subordinate to snap to attention.

"What the hell are you doing, soldier?" the distinguished turian asked in a reprimanding tone. "Get your ass out from the shadows and do your damn job."

"Yes, sir," the subordinate agreed, and cast Miranda one last glance before scurrying away to his position.

"I apologize if he gave you any trouble," the marked C-Sec Captain Actus said as he turned to address Miranda. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I was just wondering where to get some food, but...your friend gave me a route."

"Okay. Once more, I apologize for his actions. If you need any further instruction, don't hesitate to find me. I'm always here in the academy."

"I will, thank you," Miranda nodded, watching as the Captain dismissed himself and turned to follow after his soldier. Turning on her heel, she started walking down the hall she was directed towards, and eventually found her way to the elevator. Stepping inside and urging it to move, she was transported into a red-tinted alleyway that screamed "danger". Walking quickly, she moved down the long hall and turned the corner to find the elevator waiting roughly twenty feet away from her, and surrounded by terribly dressed human thugs.

Hearing her quick steps, the men looked up and sneered at the sight of such a pretty girl in their territory. Pushing themselves from the wall and off the ground, they all seemed to block her from her destination until they grew closer and their 'leader' stood mere feet before her.

"Well look what we have here men," a dirty-faced dark man with black hair and oddly light brown eyes said. "A baby...with such a pretty face."

"Get away from me you bastard," Miranda spat, tightening her arms around her sister. "Go find someone else to pester."

"I never seen 'er here before, boss," a gap-toothed white man said, with a scarred eye and a creepy smile. "She's fresh."

"So it seems," the 'boss' stated. "New to the Citadel are you sweetie? And what do you have there in your arms."

"None of your business," she retorted, not allowing the man to catch a glimpse of Oriana.

"It's a kid," a scraggly man said from behind her, causing her to jump closer to their boss in surprise.

"So...you're not such a baby after all," the boss laughed. "What happened, darling? End up giving yourself to your trashy boyfriend who only wanted to use you and leave? End up with his kid, and have to run away with the baby in your arms in hopes that your parents never find out of what a dirty, dirty girl you are?"

"Fuck off," Miranda growled, pushing through the men and walking with purpose towards the elevator.

"Mmm," their boss chuckled, stilling his men from jumping into action and admiring the view she presented. "You don't look any worse for wear pumpkin. Why don't you come back over here, and I'll show you how a real man should treat a lady."

"Touch me, and I'll kill you filthy scum," she shot over her shoulder, turning and shooting her heel into the crotch of the scarred man that nosily lumbered towards her. Smirking as the muscular man landed on the ground with a groan and a thud, she looked up to their boss and waited for his move. Moving closer still, he reached out to grab her arm, but her biotics flared, and she punched him square in the stomach; sending him flying into his row of men behind him. Quickly following up on her attack, she shot a biotic force towards the row of men and hit them hard enough to send them all scattering throughout the hallway. Stepping back into the elevator, she pressed the button and laughed as the thugs attempted to rise to their feet and chase after her.

Moving up into the upper wards, Miranda was met with far more acceptable people; mostly civilians of all races lounging around and talking to their friends about nothing in particular. At the far side of the wards, she could see the lines of restaurants occupied by swarms of beings eating, talking, and drinking merrily. It seemed that no single person had a terrible life on this part of the Citadel, and as she walked by the large window that looked out into the vastness of space, she understood why. Being on a craft so ethereal was enough to make you realize that there were sanctuaries for the lost to run to, where they didn't have to worry about the lives they left behind. Instead, they could emerge unknown, and could create a new life like the one they had always dreamed of.

Sighing, she turned away from the sight and kept her sleeping sister close to her chest; gasping when she turned and a human woman was standing right behind her. Stepping back, she noticed the woman's cool green eyes and shoulder length blonde hair. She was older, but not much older than herself, and acted as if she was severely disciplined on some level of military experience. Dressed in normal, civilian-like clothes, the woman extended her hand and met Miranda's grasp with a firm, deliberate hand shake.

"Miranda Lawson, I presume," the blonde said, her emerald gaze narrowing slightly, before she returned her hands behind her back. "I'm Inali Renata. I have a proposition for you...one I'm sure you'll be more than willing to accept."

"Pardon my manners if I seem weary, but I haven't been met with the best hospitality while I've been here, and I have more than myself to care for," Miranda muttered, looking down to her sister before returning her gaze to the stern woman in front of her.

"Well, I was given permission to drop a certain name had you feigned interest," Inali said, stroking her chin before crossing her arms over her chest. "I was sent by the Illusive Man. He wants to meet with you."

"Illusive Man?" she asked. "What...why does he want to meet me?"

"That's something you'll have to ask him yourself," the Cerberus messenger relayed. "Given that you trust me enough to transport you to his station. I can't speak much about the matter in its entirety in the open...but if you come with me-"

"I will," the adolescent interrupted, not thinking twice about her decision. "I will...but, there are a few things I need to handle while I'm here. I've been stowed away in a cargo ship for the past few days, and I need to find something for my sister to eat...as well as something for myself."

"Don't worry about it," Inali said, moving her arm before her and pulling up her omni-tool. "I'm transferring you the coordinates to docking bay C-36. There will be a cargo freighter waiting for you. This ship will take you to the Illusive Man once I board. If you would like, you may go there and the pilot will direct you to your cabin. You can get yourself and your sister cleaned up, and I will obtain any commodities you need."

"Thank you," she said. "I'll report to the ship as soon as possible."

"As will I," Inali finished with short, clipped words.

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><p>Hours after arrival on the freighter, Miranda toweled her hair and slipped the towel around her soaking body. Oriana had already been washed and slept in the middle of the large bed resting in the center of the cabin she had been directed too. Relieved, and muscles relaxed, she sat on the end of the bed and ran her fingers through her hair; combing out the knots and letting the strands fall against her chest. Standing from her seat, she tightened the towel around her body and started moving towards the bathroom before two quick knocks floated into her room, and Inali let herself in.<p>

"I've brought you toiletries and a change of clothes for yourself and Oriana," Inali said, holding up the blue duffel bag and placing it at the foot of the bed. "I've also managed to find formula for her, and have a food delivery pending to the ship for yourself."

"How did you know her name," Miranda asked, tilting her head slightly.

"The Illusive Man knows many things," Inali stated, taking her usual stance with her wrists clasped behind her back. "He didn't give me extensive amounts of information, but he told me that you would be on the Citadel, and that you were caring for your newborn sister, of whom was named Oriana. You have nothing to worry about, your well being, and the well being of your sister won't be compromised by this knowledge."

"Well, thank you," she responded, nodding her head in respect. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions, about Cerberus and the Illusive Man?"

"Not at all. Get dressed, and you can ask as many questions as you want while you eat," Inali said, leaning over and handing the duffel bag to the teenager. "I'm going to the bridge to pick up the delivery of your meal and plot a course for the station."

Nodding, Miranda accepted the duffel and placed it on her shoulder, watching as Inali excused herself and left her alone. Moving towards the bed, she opened the bag, and pulled out the jeans and the plain black t-shirt that was folded on the top. Below that sat a child's onesie and diapers for Oriana, as well as a hairbrush, a tooth brush, toothpaste, and her usual brand of make up for Miranda. Smiling, she pulled everything out, and looked over to Ori, whose bright blue eyes were opening against the light in the cabin. "Good morning, beautiful," Miranda said, reaching for her sister and placing the baby on her hip. "Ready to get pretty?"

Resting against her shoulder, the newborn smiled and reached for her sister's hair, tugging on the long strands of ebony locks and laughing happily. Chuckling, Miranda extracted the child's grip from her hair and grabbed their clothes before they disappeared into the bathroom and finally managed to change into something clean.

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><p>Her sister fed, and sleeping comfortably on the bed once more, Miranda left her to rest and made her way to the ship's elevator that led down to the mess hall. The doors opened, and Inali waited with a plate of food placed before the chair across from her. Joining the Cerberus operative, she crossed her legs and leaned forward slightly, ignoring the plate of food before her even though her stomach cramped with a lack of food.<p>

Smirking softly, Inali's emerald eyes brightened at the adolescent's careful nature. Nodding to the plate in front of her, the operative drank from the cup of water she held in her hand. "You won't be poisoned, and you haven't eaten for days. Eat, then I will answer your questions."

Looking down at the vegetable ramen, Miranda's mouth started to water, and she threw caution to the wind and brought a bite of the delicious entree to her lips. Her stomach lurched at the introduction of food, and strong cramps gnawed at her insides until she ate half of the large plate before her. Sitting back, her hand settled on her stomach, and she reached for the glass of water Inali had placed by her plate. Drinking the glass in its entirety, she placed the empty cup back on the table.

"Now, what questions to you have?"

"Cerberus," Miranda began, leaning forward against her forearms, and forcing herself to not inhale the rest of the pasta before her. "My friend found some information for me about your organization, but...I want to hear it from a member. What all can you tell me about Cerberus?"

"Cerberus is a human-centric organization whose main goal is to further humanity's place in the galaxy," Inali began, sitting back and crossing her legs comfortably. "We have a political branch, which represents our organization by forming alliances and making deals with high-end political beings in the galaxy, a military branch, to ensure that our political expansions are seen through with the least amount of resistance as possible, and a scientific branch."

"What experiments do your scientific branch conduct?"

"A wide array of experiments. We've done cybernetics research, experiments on biotics in both aliens, and humans, and experiments on less intelligent alien beings. We are still a new organization, so our scientists have only done so much research in Cerberus' name, but we'll continue to do experiments whenever questions rise as a whole within our organization."

"What about the bad publicity, and all of the claims made against Cerberus?"

"We attempt to be more so of an underground organization," Inali said, shrugging her shoulder as if she didn't care. "Only when something goes wrong do people learn about what we've been doing. Obviously, since we are an organization many people know little about, they believe that all we do is terrorize human and alien life...and the Alliance sure doesn't help allay any their concerns."

"Why doesn't the Systems Alliance support Cerberus? They're humanity's main representative organization, wouldn't they support another organization that's trying to to promote our place in the galaxy," Miranda asked, picking up her fork and slowly placing more of the seasoned noodles into her mouth.

"Cerberus is still technically a Systems Alliance black ops organization, but our feud with the Alliance has caused us to break apart entirely. If we wanted, we could still associate ourselves with the Alliance, but they say that we're a rogue cell of theirs, and that anything and everything we do isn't their fault. We've had a few run-ins here and there, and we've made a few mistakes...the Alliance's political standing is all they care about, and having Cerberus under their belt, no matter how strong we are, will destroy their platform within the other council races."

"And what of your leader? What can you tell me about the Illusive Man?"

"Not much," Inali said, with another shrug. "He's illusive for a reason."

"What...you've never seen him?"

"In person, no. Most Cerberus operatives never do. He's careful, and would rather keep himself at arms length from people...of course, unless he's taken an interest in you."

"Has the Illusive Man taken an interest in me?" Miranda asked, looking into Inali's serpent-like gaze.

"He has," the operative nodded. "If he didn't, he wouldn't be having you delivered to his station...nor would he be meeting you face to face."

"Where is his station?"

"I don't even know that. You're being taken to another Cerberus transport station first, and then a shuttle will take you to wherever the Illusive Man resides. Only will your pilot know. After I drop you off, I'll return to my own station in another star system, and continue with the missions the Illusive Man has entrusted me to complete."

"And...what will happen to me? What will happen to my sister?"

"The Illusive Man will tell you all you need to know when you meet with him," Inali assured. "You have nothing to worry about as long as you're here. You are protected and will remain protected as long as your loyalty remains with us."

"Loyalty will never become a problem," Miranda assured as she finished the dinner provided for her and sat back to with her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her gaze never left the chilling stare that Inali Renata had, and the insistence of her loyalty brought a soft smile to the operative's lips.

"I can see why the Illusive Man took such an interest in you. No doubt with your fire, you'll become one of the best operatives Cerberus has ever had. I wish you the best within our organization, Miranda. You may meander around the ship as you please, but we will arrive at the transport station within a days time. Once there, you most likely won't see me again."

"Well, in that case, thank you...for everything you have done for myself and for my sister."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Lawson," Inali offered, before she pushed her chair back and stood. Nodding, the operative whispered "Have a good night," before she disappeared into the elevator and went deeper into the ship. Sighing, Miranda pushed her plate away, and quickly followed after her; her chest clenching as she realized she was away from Oriana for far too long.


	8. Humanity First

**An: Late-ish night update to, hopefully, start the week off right.**

**Enjoy. :D  
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><p>Returning to her cabin, Miranda found Oriana awake and resting on the bed with her little arms in the air; attempting to grab at something that she imagined was there. Chuckling, Miranda walked to the bed and laid down beside her sister, watching as the child's large eyes turned to look at her face, and she smiled a toothless grin. Propping her head on her hand, Miranda reached over and danced her fingers against her sister's pudgy belly, and laughed when a high-pitched squeal left the lips of the small baby. Sighing, Miranda's fingers gently brushed against the baby's cheek and her smile slowly fell.<p>

Lying beside Oriana, Miranda realized that she wasn't meant to keep the baby with her, especially if she was set on joining Cerberus in their mission to promote humanity within the galaxy. No doubt her life would be consumed with training, and classes, and then missions of her own to fulfill. No where in the image of her future did she see her being able to care for her baby sister, and raise her in a setting that Miranda wanted her to be raised in. Surely, she would grow to be beautiful and smart, much like her sister, but Oriana had a clean slate, whereas Miranda was already plagued by the torture and memories evoked by the being that was their father. She had something to prove, Oriana didn't, and she didn't deserve to be pulled along as Miranda built herself into something important within the vastness of their expanding galaxy.

Running her finger along her sister's arm, she smiled and felt tears blurring her vision when her sister reached out and settled her chubby fingers against her face. Tears fell from Miranda's crystalline gaze and onto Oriana's hand, causing the baby to soothingly brush her fingertips across her sister's cheek. Sniffling, Miranda tickled her sister again and smiled when her childish laugh filled their cabin. "I know you probably don't understand me," Miranda whispered, reaching up to brush away the moisture slipping from her eyes. "But...no matter where we both end up, even if it isn't together, I promise I'll protect you. You'll have the normal life out of the two of us, Ori...you'll grow up happy, excel in school, find love, get married, have children...and throughout all that, somewhere, somehow I'll be watching. You'll be safe as long as I'm alive, Ori...I swear...and you'll never be alone. I'll be out there...somewhere."

Oriana's bright eyes looked up to her sister, and the child went back to resting her hand on her sister's cheek. Smiling happily, the smile spread onto Miranda's face, and she grabbed her sister and rolled onto her back; stretching her arms up and holding the baby high in the air. Oriana laughed and squealed as her arms flailed and she thrashed in Miranda's hands. Chuckling and settling her down, Oriana rested against her sister's chest and yawned when her small ear once again found the beat that was provided by Miranda's heart. Following her sister's lead, Miranda yawned as well, and placed one of her arms behind her head before she settled her hand on Oriana, and closed her eyes; falling asleep with her sister snoozing on her chest.

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><p>After finding her way off the freighter, Miranda was transported by an auto-piloted shuttle to whatever station she was being taken to, and was separated from Oriana before she was directed towards two doors embellished with Cerberus' signature in black and gold. Once the guards nodded to her, they opened the doors, and she stepped through to only be surrounded by shadow once more.<p>

On the far side of the room, the windows of the station viewed the churning lava that existed on the system's star, and in the middle of the room sat a well-dressed man with a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigarette poised in the other. Facing away from her, and staring at the star, he brought the cigarette to his lips, and inhaled quietly, before he snuffed it out in the ashtray built into the arms of his chair. Standing, he turned to her, and the glowing of his eyes immediately sent chills down her spine.

"Miranda Lawson," his voice was smooth, but husky. His hair colored gray and expertly cut, while wrinkles littered his face even though he looked no older than 35. His eyes, with irises of dark blue, obviously contained prosthetics of sorts, and glowed a vibrant, neon blue. Nodding at the mention of her name, she watched as he seemed to catalog her in his mind with another sip of scotch, and gave her a smile that was eerily confident. "It's wonderful to finally meet you."

"Like wise, though I'm told this is a honor," Miranda said, crossing her arms under her breasts and leaning into her hip.

"It is," the Illusive Man nodded, smiling and using his glass to point at her. "It's not often that any being is given the honor to see me in person...especially the very first time I make contact with them. Though, I'm sure you know as well as myself that you are special."

"The image of myself is subjective," she retorted with a shrug of her shoulder.

"Well, my subjective opinion is that you're special," he said, chuckling softly and turning to walk toward the star churning outside of the windows. "I've been watching you for years, Miranda...watching you grow, watching you progress, and I have to say...you've amounted to something amazing. Though, had you been my creation, I would have done a few things differently."

"It wasn't all bad...living with my father," Miranda offered, unsure why she was defending the man. "At least, at first it wasn't."

"He pushed you too hard. We both know it's true, and we both know that even with your superior immune system and your body's ability to heal itself at accelerated rates, you can still show us scars that he has given you," nodding, he turned from her, and moved towards the window so he could view his star once more. "And that is merely on a physical level. You are clearly strong mentally if you have the ability to stand before me and speak with a rational tongue and a logical mind. You are well aware of what you are, Miranda, but there are holes...and that is why you had your friend Niket try and dig up information on Cerberus."

"Wow...Inali said you knew a lot. You're a regular information broker," she smirked, following after the Illusive Man, but only moving into the room a few steps before she stopped and leaned into her hip once more. "How much more do you know?"

"I know everything, Miranda," the Illusive Man answered, turning and downing the last of his scotch, before he placed it on the arm of his chair and rested his hands behind his back. "I brought you here, because you wanted to be here. Now tell me...why do you want to be here?"

"We are scared," Miranda said quietly, looking to her feet before she straightened and looked into the Illusive Man's creepy eyes with an unfaltering gaze. "As a race, we are terrified of the unknown. Not even 20 years ago, we found technology that shot us 200 years into the future, and introduced us to new species of aliens we couldn't even conspire about. Knowledge of our history constantly arises, and the fact that we are the underdog makes people scared. They want to stick to Earth, and try to pretend that there isn't more out there. Inali told me that the Alliance is far too worried about their political standing to think about how terrified the human race is...so who is left? Who is going to do anything about our stand in the galaxy? I'm here because I want to be, and because I believe that our race needs someone they can count on so they know that we won't be the weaklings for much longer."

"You are aware of our standing with the public, aren't you?" he asked, smiling at the teenager's animated explanation. "We aren't really well liked."

"Not yet, but that's only because people don't understand," she answered. "Once people understand what they're trying to do, people will join and will offer their trust."

"Your ideals are very admirable, Miranda, and perfectly reflect my own," the Illusive Man said, stepping closer to her. "If you are ready and willing, I would be honored to place you in a training regimen designed to train you to be one of Cerberus' many skilled operatives. If you prove yourself worthy, you very well may be promoted over mere operatives and serve as my right hand in progressing the ideas of humanity, but of course...your loyalty to this organization and myself will be demanded of constantly. Your first and only devotion has to be to this organization."

"I understand," Miranda nodded, her eyes falling to the floor momentarily. "You will have my loyalty, but I need to ask something of you. I know it really isn't my place, but I will give my life to you and what this organization stands for...as long as you agree to a few conditions."

"And what would they be?"

"Protection for my sister. I know you are well aware of my escape from my father's facility, and I need to know that he won't be able to touch Oriana. I want her given to a nice foster family...and I want her to have a normal life, away from the war, and the fighting, and the dark underbelly that every organization has. My father can't find her...ensure that he'll never touch her again, and I'll join you."

"It's already done," the Illusive Man assured with a nod of his head. "I have dossiers of respectable families searching to adopt, and your father has already withheld his funding from Cerberus. He is no longer my liaison, and if protection is what you need, I can provide it. All I have to suggest is that, if you want a normal life for your sister, you should stay out of the picture as much as possible. I'm not saying you have to give her up and stop caring, but how would she react if she learned she had a twin sister, and that both of you were created to be the perfect human?"

"I've already thought about that on the way here," Miranda answered truthfully, the sadness of the realization hitting her in full force. "I know I have to keep my distance, and will do so once she is given to her family. I'll trust them to take care of her, but I'll always be watching. All I ask is that I have a final goodbye before they take her."

"Of course. I'm sure you are aware that it's best if they don't know that Cerberus is behind this, so she will be given to a social worker, who will hand her over to her foster family. If you like, you may be there for the adoption, but you cannot be seen. After such a time, you most be devoted to Cerberus, and must return to the station where your training will be taking place."

"I would appreciate that," she nodded, smiling softly through the pain that sent her heart fluttering. "After which, I will do what you wish."

"Excellent. I will arrange the adoption immediately, and I've already forwarded your training regimen and schedule to your omni-tool. Transportation to your training facility will be provided in time, and I will forward instructions and changes to your regimen through the terminal on the desk in your room. Until then, you will be taken back to the transport station, and you will be shown to the living quarters that are present in the back. You may stay there and spend time with your sister until the foster family arrives, but then you must say your final good byes, and prepare for relocation," the Illusive Man said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket, and lighting it. "I will contact you through the comm system set up to my many stations and facilities if need be, but you most likely won't meet me in person again until your training is complete."

"I understand," she said again, sighing and biting back the emotions that churned deep in her stomach. "When will her foster family be here?"

"Within the next few days. You'll have time to spend together, but I would make the most of it if I were you."

"I will," Miranda nodded, tightening her arms around herself. "Thank you."

"No, Miranda, thank you," the Illusive Man said with a much quieter, more sincere tone. "You don't know how much having you helping me means. Enjoy your time with your sister, and I look forward to seeing you again."

"As do I," she nodded, turning when the doors opened, and walking out into the bright white hallways. Squinting, the doors closed, and she was directed to the shuttle bay where she was given Oriana and sent back to the transport station. Finding her way to her room, she sat on the bed and rested her sister between her legs; playing with her pudgy hands and smiling as she watched her face animate vividly.

"I'm sorry Oriana," she whispered finally, with tears threatening to spill forth once more. Confused, the baby looked at her, but all Miranda could do was look down to her sister's chubby legs that kicked at the mattress below her. "I promised you I would give you the normal, easy life. Maybe one day I'll be able to approach you, and we'll laugh about this entire thing. Until then, try to keep me somewhere in your mind, okay?"

Smiling, Oriana laughed and reached for her sister's hands. Knowing her words were partially, if not entirely lost on the child, she simply allowed her sister to play with her digits and fascinate over the art of movement. Laughing, she failed to care that in a few days her sister would be gone, and she would be moving on to an even newer chapter of her life. Instead, all she cared about was entertaining the bundle in front of her, which had quickly became her world in a matter of days.


	9. Day One

**An: Sorry for taking so long to update this story. I update whenever I get two chapters ahead, and I took forever to write the chapter that follows after this (which is upwards of 5k words...good lord). Hopefully this is worth the wait, as I attempt to introduce and explain training life within Cerberus. Eventually I'll get to showing Miranda's involvement in an actual cell (obviously before Lazarus) and then after a few trials and tribulations, the ME2 timeline will roll around. :D**

**Enjoy! And happy soon-to-be summer to all the students out there reading this.  
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><p>The last few days Miranda spent with Oriana were full of laughter and happiness, but when the adoption date rolled around, Miranda was forced to bite back her tears and watch as her sister was given to another family. From the outside they looked like nice people, and no doubt the Illusive Man made sure they would be wonderful parents, but as she stood in the shadows and watched the social worker hand her sister to her new mother, she couldn't help but feel like she was making a mistake.<p>

"No," she muttered to herself. "No...she needs this. I won't force her to live in a world like my own."

Resting against her foster mother's shoulder, Oriana looked forward and locked her gaze on Miranda. Reaching for her, Miranda smiled ruefully and waved to her sister before she disappeared behind the corner and slid to the ground in a heap of sorrow. Tears fell steadily from Miranda's eyes, and as Oriana was carried away, unseen tear drops dotted the baby's cheeks, and Oriana held her hand out in hopes that her sister would save her.

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><p>Numb, Miranda was transported to a planet she didn't know, and brought to a nameless facility where she would be trained as a Cerberus operative. Pointed in the direction of her room, she opened the door to a simple suite with a large bed placed in the middle of the far wall, a desk placed against the western wall, under a large window, and a door that led to her own personal bathroom. But as she looked around the room, and threw what belongings she had by the closet, she failed to care about anything that was going on. She felt scrubbed raw, and her eyes stung from the copious amount of tears that had been shed on her part in the past few days. In less than a week her world had been flipped upside down, and in the process she lost the two people she cared about the most. Angered towards no one in particular, she grunted and laid down on her bed; pulling a pillow to her chest and resting her cheek on the fluffy material. Exhausted, mentally and physically, Miranda ignored the reminder on her terminal and omni-tool to report to the mess hall for dinner, and instead slept away the rest of her day.<p>

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><p>At six in the morning, her insufferable terminal rang out again and alerted her that she had to rise and prepare for the day. Sore, weak, and suffering from a severe headache, she growled and obeyed; shutting off the alarm before she treated herself to a hot shower. Allowing the searing steam to calm her muscles, she spent most of her morning under the spray, until she heard her alarm blare from her room once again. Cursing, she ran from her shower and dressed for her workout in record time, and migrated with the few others in the facility towards the mess hall for breakfast.<p>

The cafeteria was small, and the cooks prepared food like that prepared for the military. She managed to find a few things she considered edible, but only managed to down a few pieces of fruit and a stale muffin. Choosing not to stay the full time and mingle with the others, she returned her tray to the cooks and made her way for the gym, which was relatively easy to find considering it took up most of the building she was in.

Walking in, bright lights hung from the ceiling, and soft mats padded the middle of a track that had been laid out inside of the building. The squishy tartan molded under her shoes, and she walked around aimlessly; observing all of the equipment and trying her best to keep her mind off Oriana. Sighing, she walked up to one of the punching dummies and slammed her fist into it; a general sense of apathy settling over her as it flew across the gym and hit the wall. At that moment, a tan, muscular man walked in and looked at the dummy quizzically. With a face incredibly scarred and utterly terrifying, he turned to the teenager and lumbered towards her.

"Miranda Lawson, I presume?" the man asked, his voice gravelly and tough. "The names Sergeant Darren Buckner, but you'll refer to me as Sergeant Buckner, and only Sergeant Buckner. You cannot call me Serge, you cannot call me Darren, and you cannot call me Buck. I am your superior and will be addressed as such. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir," Miranda said, unmoved by the Sergeant's demand for respect. "Though, I wasn't going to address you as any of those things in the first place."

"Don't speak unless spoken too, maggot," Buckner growled, stepping up to the teenager and looking down at her with iron-colored eyes. "You can talk when I ask you to talk."

"I didn't sign up to join the Navy Seals," she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. "You are well aware of my name and I would appreciate if you use it."

"Cerberus doesn't care about appreciation! We care about getting the god damn job done...and if you're looking for pity you won't find it here either. Sure, life has sucked for you until now...get over it. Everyone goes through shit, and you're damn lucky to make it out alive. There is a world out there craving your flesh and blood, and it won't stop to kill you. The sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be."

"You think I don't already know that?" she laughed. "You perceive me as a fool, Sergeant Buckner."

"And you perceive me as a fucker who cares," Buckner spat, before he turned and took a few steps away from her. "Naturally, I'm sure you are aware that this is basic training. You will be put through an extensive workout to tone your body and strengthen your muscles. A good Operative is fit, and the best Operatives are athletic. You will be running, you will be doing push-ups, you will be doing curls, you will be doing weight lifting, and if at any time you do not give 100% you will be forced to go back to the beginning and start all over. So, if you're as smart as you think you are, don't fuck up."

Smirking, Miranda looked down at herself, and rested a hand confidently on her hip. "I hope you've brought a challenge Sergeant Buckner, I'm quite athletic already..."

"You won't think that way when I'm done with you," the muscular man laughed, walking onto the track and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "But since you're so confident, how about we start you off doing something easy. Twenty miles around this track, no stopping."

"Twenty?" she asked incredulously. "Why would anyone ever have to run twenty miles?"

"Hell, some people do it for fun, and it wasn't a question maggot. Get on this track and run. Eighty laps! Let's go!"

"My name is Miranda," she spat, before she walked onto the track and stepped off into a jog, before elevating her pace and pushing herself to run around the track.

"When you prove yourself to me as a member of this organization, then and only then will I show you enough respect to address you with your correct name," Buckner yelled as he moved into the center of the mat and watched the teenager run around the room. "Pick it up maggot, I didn't ask you to jog."

Huffing, she pushed herself to move faster and ticked off the laps one by one. Her lungs burned after running for over twenty minutes, and her stomach churned uncomfortably as her small breakfast threatened to reappear. She panted for breath as she continued to run, and sweat poured off her like rain. Her mouth was parched and her legs grew gelatinous as she rounded lap 32 and fell from exhaustion. Gagging, she pulled herself to the nearest trashcan and emptied her stomach, before she fell onto her back and panted for air. Laughing, Buckner walked over to her and stood over her form; shaking his head and pulling her off the ground.

"We aren't done yet, maggot. You still have twelve miles to go!"

Groaning, she opened her mouth to retort, but realized every time she spoke out she was digging herself a deeper grave, and simply stumbled back to the track. Weak, and almost sure that her legs wouldn't function correctly, she took up a slower pace, and continued to circle the building until she returned to the trashcan to vomit up stomach acid on lap 48, and once again on lap 63. By the time she ran across the solid white line an eightieth time, the time for her morning session had basically disappeared and Buckner huffed as he looked at the clock.

"You took your good sweet time, maggot," he commented as he saw that it was almost time for the facility's occupants to be sent to lunch. "I guess you'll just have to do twice the work to make up for all the lost time when we come back from lunch."

Had she been able to speak, Miranda would have offered at least a groan in response, but her current state refused it. She rested on her back and placed her arms over her head while her chest rose and fell quickly in her attempts to obtain oxygen. Closing her eyes, she remained still, and jumped when she felt two strong hands circle her waist and pull her to her feet. Opening her eyes, she watched as Buckner held her steady and moved one of her hands to her head before placing a bottle of water in the hand that remained at her side.

"Try and stand," the Sergeant muttered, removing his hands and letting her stand on her wobbly legs. "It'll help you breathe. Also, don't miss lunch. You need energy."

"Why...so...nice...to me...now?" Miranda gasped, holding the cool bottle in her shaking hand.

"You proved yourself," Buckner stated with a voice slightly colored with emotion. "You didn't quit, and I respect that. But don't think you can stop here. Keep trying, and I'll keep being nice."

Smiling, she nodded and kept sucking in air; lowering her arms to drink from the bottle Buckner gave her. Patting her shoulder, the Sergeant saluted her before he dismissed himself and left her alone in the gym. Looking around, she managed to calm herself enough that she permitted movement, and stumbled towards the door en route for the cafeteria. Pushing through the glass doors, she moved to the table located beside the ceiling high windows on the room's eastern wall, and propped her feet up on the surrounding chairs. She was exhausted, sore, and still felt sick, but the feeling of accomplishment made her pain bittersweet.

"Eat up, Lawson," Buckner said as he passed her table and tossed an apple in her direction. "You're gonna need it."

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><p>The rest of her day consisted of aerobic exercises that spanned from martial arts, to sprinting, and even included fast-paced dancing. Though she was beyond tired, Buckner managed to make the last four hours of basics bearable, if not a little bit entertaining. Released from training early, she returned to her dorm and immediately stripped off her clothes and pulled herself into the shower. Heating the water as much as she could stand, she stood under the spray and sighed as the water soothed her aching muscles and took the stinging from her limbs. Leaning against the shower wall, she managed to wash her hair and incredibly sore body before she dressed herself for the night and sat on the edge of her bed. Her terminal rang out to alert her of dinner, and though she had no inclination to eat, she knew her body needed nourishment nonetheless.<p>

Managing to walk to the cafeteria once again, she accepted the large dinner offered to her by the cooks and sat at her table. Picking at the vegetables around the slab of grilled chicken, she forced herself to eat, and looked up in surprise when a young man close to her age sat across from her.

"You're new," the relatively attractive blonde said. "And I think I know who you are."

"I wish I could say the same about you," Miranda offered, before she extended her hand and shook his own politely. "My name is Miranda. Miranda Lawson."

"I thought so," he said, his bright blue eyes shining as his fingers seemed to envelop her hand entirely. "You're practically a celebrity around here. I'm Skye Turnick."

"Nice to meet you," she said, observing that the energetic man had absolutely gorgeous eyes...and amazing arms.

"The pleasure is all mine Miss Lawson," Skye smiled and leaned forward on his tanned forearms. "Tell me...are the rumors true? Have you actually met the Illusive Man in person?"

"Yes, I have," she informed, picking at the chicken on her plate. "He sent one of his Operatives to find me on the Citadel."

"Wow," Skye muttered. "That's amazing. You must be special if you managed to catch his attention like you have. What did he tell you? What does he look like?"

"Why do you care so much?" Miranda asked on a laugh, placing her fork down and sitting back to observe the animated man.

"Because I've never seen him, heard his voice, or even received an email from the man. I was recruited into the Operative program by a messenger who visited my colony looking to secure a smuggle trade with the weapon making company I worked security for," Skye explained. "I hardly knew about Cerberus before I was recruited, but after seeing the good that has been done on Cerberus' part in the past ten years or so, it kills me that I can't see the man responsible."

"If you're training to be an Operative, why aren't you more worried about completing your regimen and establishing yourself within the organization? Why not strive to better humanity with your own contributions, instead of doing nothing but admiring another for changing life? The Illusive Man doesn't conduct experiments, make the business deals, or fight the battles. He trains humanity's most gifted, gives them their resources and says 'Do it'. We make Cerberus great, he just spends the money to make us great."

"Well, Miss Lawson, perhaps I wasn't thinking straight. I thank you for opening my eyes."

"Anytime," she smirked, forcing herself to pick up her fork and eat more of her dinner. "You said you are training to be an Operative...why didn't I see you in basics today?"

"I have basics on Thursday," Skye answered. "We only have a few people training to be Operatives on this facility, so we all have different training schedules. The only day we all have the same is Sunday, which is our day off."

"Sunday will more than likely become my favorite day then..."

"Nah, you'll find one training session you enjoy. Everything is difficult the first week, but once we are trained physically, our afternoon sessions are replaced with cell shadowing. I haven't started shadowing yet, but a few others have and they enjoy it."

"Cell shadowing?"

"Yeah, you go to other facilities on this planet and shadow Operatives directing ongoing Cerberus cells. It gives us the ability to observe how we should go about conducting cells whenever we obtain enough hours of training and shadowing to graduate."

"How many hours do we need to graduate?"

"Well, there's no set number of hours. The Illusive Man constantly monitors our progress, and when he believes that we are ready to be appointed to our positions, we will be given a cell of our own to take on and accomplish," Skye explained, looking down at the plate Miranda barely touched. "You should eat..."

"I'm not very hungry," she commented, sitting back and holding her upset stomach. "Basics made me sick...multiple times."

"Really? That's odd...You look extremely fit as it is."

"I am, but I spoke out against Sergeant Buckner and he punished me with a twenty mile run."

"Ouch," he muttered, chuckling softly. "The most he has ever made me run is ten miles...can't imagine having to do that twice. You must hurt."

"You have no idea," Miranda laughed ruefully, leaning forward to rub her legs in emphasis. "I dread whatever training I have tomorrow."

"What do you have tomorrow?"

"Assault training...whatever that might entail."

"It's a lot like basic gun handling and soldier training," Skye answered. "Not my favorite either. Class specialization is my favorite, as it is for many people. You just feel...right, when you're fighting the way you know how to."

"What do you mean class specialization?"

"You don't know what classes are? Like, soldiers, engineers, vanguards...Wow, you must have lived under a rock before you came here. Anyways, everyone has a special way of fighting, and that special way of fighting is called a class. I'm an infiltrator, I'm big on sneak attacks, and use skills like tactical cloak to get behind my enemies and kill them. Whenever you have your CS classes, I'm sure your instructor will preform tests to determine what class fits you best."

"I'm a biotic," Miranda offered feebly, unsure of what other importance she could bring to the battlefield. "And I'm familiar with tech. Other than that, I can't do much. I've never handled a gun in my life...all I've had to rely on is my biotics, and I'm well aware that I'm not the strongest human biotic, nor the best."

"You sound like a sentinel," he said, sitting back and admiring the woman before him. "The best of all specializations. Strong with a pistol, and has the ability to control the battlefield to their whim. Sentinels are meant to protect the party, and alert others of danger. Not only that, but sentinels can use an array of biotics and tech expertise to slow down enemies, and make them vulnerable for the others with you, or yourself to finish off. I, personally, am quite fond of sentinels."

"Well, don't grow too fond of me yet," she muttered softly. "I haven't been placed under any label. As of right now, I'm nothing more than a grunt searching for somewhere to fit in."

"I think you'll fit in just fine here," Skye smiled. "I wish I could stay longer, but sadly I must go to the facility's library before it closes. I have a few books I've had my eye on, and they've finally been returned. If ever your in that wing, my dorm is right across the hall...room C154, feel free to stop by whenever you please."

"I just might take your offer up on that," she whispered quietly, a soft smile touching her lips. "It was nice talking to you, Skye. I'll see you later...hopefully."

"Hopefully indeed, Miss Lawson," Turnick said as he carefully grasped her fingers in his and tenderly kissed the back of her hand. "Have a good night."

"You too," Miranda offered, pulling her hand back and looking at the blonde quizzically. With the flash of a charming smile, he turned and made his way for the exit, but in the seemingly dead cafeteria she remained. The moon was peering over the horizon, and the colors of sunset were slowly being pushed back by darker shades of blue and black. Sighing, and rolling her eyes as she thought back upon the energetic, but extremely handsome Operative-in-training, she couldn't help but revel in the comfort of his conversation.

"Oh, hell," she said to the open world around her. "What would a few occasional visits hurt?"


	10. Day Two

**An: Well, here's another chapter for the weekend. I'm slowly working through these chapters (in my attempt to give an appropriate time oversight into her Cerberus interactions, while I wait to get to the ME2 time frame) and hopefully you all still enjoy this. If I'm lucky, the end of the school year should mean a lot more writing, and quicker chapters, but you never know.**

**Enjoy all, and leave me a review if you liked this newest chapter.  
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><p>Waking up Tuesday morning, Miranda groaned pitifully as she rolled over, and every muscle in her body clenched in pain. She was sore beyond comprehensible values, and pushing herself up from lying on her bed took upwards of five minutes to accomplish. Whimpering, she held her stomach and walked to her shower; showering like she had the day before, but making sure that she didn't take as long. Wrapped in a towel, she dressed in a tank top and shorts much like she had the day before, but opted to leave her hair down until she found out what exactly she would be doing in her Assault Training sessions.<p>

Lightly doing her make up, she darkened around her eyes and ran her fingers through her drying hair before she laced up her tennis shoes and attempted to stretch her sore legs before breakfast. Gasping in pain at the sudden movement, she pushed through the pain and stretched her muscles; breathing heavily when she stood straight and made her way to her door before her terminal's alarm blared.

Walking to the cafeteria, she looked around and noticed she was alone, until Sergeant Buckner pushed out of the gym doors across the hall and walked up behind her. Smiling, he rested a hand on her shoulder, and shook her lightly to get her attention. "How are you holding up, Lawson? Muscles feel good and sore?"

"You have no idea," Miranda said, turning to face the Sergeant with a hand resting on her sore stomach muscles. "I could barely get out of bed this morning, let alone walk to my bathroom to get a shower."

"Well, that's to be expected. It means I did my job right. Try and keep your legs moving, and eat a couple bananas while you're here. The potassium will help," Buckner suggested, walking forward and taking a banana out of the baskets of fruit that were placed around the cafeteria. Handing it to her, he clapped her on the shoulder again and started moving towards the line that led to whatever food the cooks had prepared that morning. "If they don't work, and you start having muscles cramps, you can opt to visiting the hospital wing. They can give you potassium supplements to take every day until they stop hurting."

"Thanks," she nodded, holding up the yellow fruit in her hand. "But, this should be alright. You just worked me hard yesterday. I'll be fine."

"Keep it up, Lawson," Buckner chuckled as he went to get his food. "You'll be back in the gym with me sooner then you would like."

"Don't remind me," she whispered under her breath, as she made her way to her usual seat and slowly peeled apart her breakfast. Looking out the window as she tore pieces of the banana off and placed them in her mouth, she looked up from the planet's grassy hills to the bright blue sky that hung overhead. Sighing, she tried to imagine how life at the facility was now that she was gone, and what exactly her father was doing. Was he making another creation like herself and Oriana, or was he putting all of his money forward to get back his newborn investment and kill his adolescent one? What of Oriana? Was she safe and happy in the arms of her foster mother, or did she lie awake at night and stare forward blankly, wishing she could find the words to call out her sister's name? And Niket...what happened to her long lost friend? She hadn't seen him after she got Oriana and left the facility, and she had no way of knowing if he had been hurt in the attack, or if he managed to get away unharmed.

Shaking her head, Miranda stood and threw her banana peel away before she left the cafeteria and looked to her omni-tool for directions to the firing range she was ordered to report to. Aimlessly turning corners, and barely taking notice of the signs that hung overhead, she found the doors that leading into her destination. Pushing through them, she emerged in a dark room that was lined with weapon benches and had paper targets hung at the far end of the room. Standing in one of the lanes, was a woman Miranda had failed to recognize, but smiled at politely when she turned and smiled at her with excitement.

The woman before her was gorgeous by Miranda's standards, and the young teenager couldn't help but admire the light brown curls that fell over the woman's shoulder and around her soft, delicate face. Her eyes were bright blue, and shimmered even in the darkness of the room around them. She was dressed a white, skin-tight cat suit that proudly displayed the Cerberus logo on her chest and flattered every curve that the woman possessed. Moving towards her, the woman extended her hand and introduced herself in a saucy, English accent.

"Hello, dear. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Lillian Novachek, but you can just call me Lily. If I'm correct, you are the Lawson that everyone has been talking about. Miranda, right?"

"Yes," Miranda nodded, mimicking Lily's contagious smile. "Though, why has everyone been talking about me?"

"The Illusive Man has plans for you darling. He's donated more money and attention to this facility in the past two days then he has in the past ten years. No doubt he's keeping an eye on you, and planning the perfect time to fully integrate you within the organization as a top Operative. But, until then, you still have a few more things to learn, and since we are in the shooting range, you have Assault Training today."

"Correct," the Aussie nodded. "A friend of mine here told me that Assault Training was basically gun handling. Sorry to reveal this, but...I've never used a gun in my life."

"That's fine, dear," Lily smiled, motioning for Miranda to follow her to one of the weapon benches. "I'll teach you everything you need to know, and I'll make sure to make it fun. No doubt it won't be as physically daunting as basic training with Darren, but you will be asked to participate in a few live sessions with mechanical targets. At first they'll just be simple targets, and you have to distinguish between enemy and friend, but eventually I'll send in live mechs that have been rewired to be less dangerous than their security counterparts. I'll build you up to the real action, so you have nothing to be afraid of."

"I've handled mechs before," Miranda sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she relived the many sessions in which she had waves upon waves of mechs sent after her. "But, never with a gun. I've always relied on what biotics I had, and the tech expertise my father taught me."

"Well, that's all I do when it comes down to it, but a gun is helpful. It helps stun your enemy if they're mechanical, so you can get in and disrupt their circuits before they advance. And, of course, if they're organics, then it can do quite a bit of damage aimed at the right place."

"No doubt," she nodded, watching as Lily messed with a submachine gun and did a cursory check before handing the gun to her trainee. "What's this?"

"Your best friend," Lily answered, materializing an identical gun from the weapon strap circled around her thigh. "I'm a big fan of this particular submachine gun, and since we seem to have a similar fighting style, I'm going to introduce you to my favorite weapons first. I like to be traditional, and use my submachine gun, pistol and assault rifle the most. I leave the snipers and the shotguns to the soldiers and infiltrators."

Tilting the gun, Miranda examined the light weight machine pistol, and looked down the scope that was placed at the end of the barrel. Humming, she nodded, and turned to Lily who was waiting for the teenager to examine her gun fully. "Interesting. I can't offer much on my opinion of gun quality though, I apologize."

"No worries, love," her trainer laughed, urging her to one of the shooting lanes. "What you have in your hand is a M-4 Shuriken Machine Pistol. This baby is quite common, but she's effective, and fires a three round burst that can tear down biotic barriers and shields like a pro. Not only that, but it has a manageable recoil, and can even be used for long range shooting better than other submachine guns. The only bad thing is that she doesn't pack a huge punch, but the lack of damage is compensated for with how quickly you can fire out rounds and how many rounds this gun can hold. But hell, talking about the guns is only half the fun. Ready to try it out?"

"I don't know," Miranda answered truthfully, slightly apprehensive having the firearm at her disposal. "But, I suppose now is as good a time as any."

"Damn right," the Englishwoman laughed, resting her hand on Miranda's back and urging her closer to the shelf that stuck out from where she stood. "Move up, now. Don't be scared. Good, now, I want you to plant your feet and straighten your arms out with your dominant hand holding the gun's handle, and your supporting hand cupping your dominant hand. Make sure to keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to fire, and try and line up your scope with the chest of the paper target down your lane. Good, now when you're ready, hit the switch at your thumb and fire at will."

Shrugging a shoulder, Miranda followed Lily's instructions and breathed out slowly as she aimed for the heart of her paper target. Flicking off the safety, Miranda moved her finger to the trigger and took in a deep breath before she squeezed, and jumped as the three rounds exploded from her barrel and tore into the paper at the end of her lane. Laughing, she looked over her shoulder at her trainer, who simply nodded and urged her to continue. Smiling brilliantly, Miranda let her finger pull the trigger multiple times, until the heart and head of her target were gaping holes and the coolant in her thermal clip disappeared. Stepping back, she sat the gun on the shelf at her waist, and turned to the Operative Trainer who was chuckling softly behind her.

"Trigger happy, are we?"

"That was fun," Miranda laughed, looking back at her destroyed target. "But, I do have one question regarding this gun. What was it that you had put in it before I started firing? I thought all guns had a built in heat sink, and that clips of any sort weren't needed anymore."

"Cerberus is ahead of the game when it comes to many things, including our weapons. Thermal clips are a new addition to the market, but many military organizations and police teams find them obsolete. In reality, guns with built in heat sinks can't fire many rounds before they overheat, and you have to wait so long for your weapon to cool. And even after it has cooled enough to fire again, if you charge off into battle, the gun will overheat quicker this time, considering it's already overheated before. Heat sinks are a mess, so we've had some of our scientists develop thermal clips that we place in our guns, that keep our guns from overheating. The clips contain a coolant, but they prove to have the same downfalls as magazine clips that were used before we got rid of bullets, which is basically, if you don't have any clips, you can't fire."

"And why doesn't everyone update their guns and use this?"

"Because it's Cerberus technology, and people are too worried about our name to figure out that their weapons will explode in their hands sooner or later," the Operative said, running her fingers through her hair. "People are ignorant, Miranda, but they'll learn sooner or later. We have a few people who are selling thermal clips under their name instead of our own, and then transferring the money to the Illusive Man. Silent contributors to our cause, I suppose."

"Will the ignorance never end?" the teenager asked whimsically. "You'd think with the opening of this new world people would be quick to believe what they see, and grasp at what they could to get ahead of others."

"Many people don't know how dangerous the world is," Lily answered, looking into Miranda's deep blue eyes. "Even you, who had to outrun turrets to save yourself and your sister, haven't seen the brunt of it. It's a terrible time to be growing up...or living, but we have to fight, and we have to try and do something right so this galaxy will exist for the generation after us."

"What danger do you mean? You sound like you're speaking about more than thugs, or pirates."

"I am...but even I don't know. We just know that something is out there. We have our own team researching Prothean data, and we've extracted some of the information from Alliance scientific teams that were at the front of the excavation on Mars. There is something there about the Protheans that we need to take as a warning, but, as usual, ignorance blinds us, and we fail to take heed."

"You mean their extinction, don't you?" Miranda asked, tilting her head as she tried to remember all of the information that her father had told her about the Protheans. "Close to fifty thousand years ago, this entire race disappeared...while observing us. Thinking about it now, I understand what you mean. This race was extremely intelligent and powerful...how did they all just..die?"

"Exactly," the trainer nodded, looking to her feet and crossing her arms. "We don't know the details, but we know that something will happen sooner or later, and until we find out what happened to the Protheans, we will continue to fight the good fight, and make our stand in this galaxy. One of the ways we do so is training young kids like yourself, and I have to say that it is a pleasure that I have the opportunity to teach you. You have so much potential, and the Cerberus idea has been imbedded into you without force or teachings from our part. You were meant to be one of us, and frankly, I can't wait to see you surpass the ranks of your peers, and rule this organization alongside the Illusive Man."

"You seriously think I'll amount to something that important?" she asked with a rueful chuckle. "How can I? I'm a genetic reject that ran for her life in hopes that her crazy father wouldn't kill her. I risked my life, and the life of my only friend to save my sister...the one who was meant to replace me. I left him there to die, and ran for my life without trying to go back and save him. As far as I know, he's dead...and I'm here. Why do I deserve such greatness in my life?"

"Because you were born great," Lily whispered, stepping closer to the Aussie and curling her finger under her chin. Smiling, she wiped away one of the tears that had fell from Miranda's eye, and held her face in her hand to keep the teenager's attention. "You can blame your father all you want, but you are the reason that you will amount to something here. You've never picked up a gun in your life, but you're a better shot then some of the others that are training along side you, and have handled a gun since they were children. You're a strong biotic, since you managed to emerge from your father's hold alive, and you are an incredibly selfless being. You risked your life to save your sister, and then gave up that part of yourself so she could live a normal life. Not only that, but you're incredibly intelligent, and there is no way in hell you're dumb enough to actually believe you should be made a victim after all the torture you've endured. Now, get that mindset out of your head, and look to the future. Cerberus isn't about the past, and though you haven't gained the logo, you are one of us. Keep your focus on the road ahead of you, and you will be rewarded."

"How so?"

"The Illusive Man is quick to keep morale high," her trainer smiled, letting her hand fall to Miranda's shoulder. "He's probably already pulled some strings for you already. Just be patient, love, and work hard. Then fortune will become of you."

"I just...I don't understand. I'm spoiled here, and treated so well, even then I'm incredibly under-ranked. Why doesn't everyone see that Cerberus isn't as bad as they're making it out to be, and that if they have the ability to prove themselves, they will be rewarded in the long run? Why such the negative view?"

"Because not many people give us a chance," Lily answered. "And even though you might not believe it now, but _you_ are our chance. Make me a deal, in ten years, I want you to find me, wherever I am, and tell me of all the things you have accomplished, and all the good you have done for humanity. Deal?"

"Deal," Miranda agreed, laughing as Lily touched her face once more and smiled brightly.

"Good. Now, let's try out some more guns shall we? Now that we've had an emotional bonding moment, might as well get over it with shooting things."

"Sounds good with me, what do you have in mind?"

"A heavy pistol this time. The M-5 Phalanx."

"Hmm, sounds like fun."

"Oh wait until you shoot this baby. You haven't seen fun unless you've taken a Phalanx into the battlefield!"

* * *

><p>After hours of unloading rounds into an array of targets, Lily and Miranda parted ways once the bells rang out to alert everyone of lunch. Opting to eat one of the many salads prepared by the cooks, she frowned when she failed to see Skye saunter into the cafeteria after his morning training session. Eating alone, she finished her meal quickly, and set off the find the library where she was sure the young man resided. The signs pointed her in the right direction, and as she pushed through the doors, her eyes instantly gravitated to the mop of dusty blonde hair resting against one of the high-back lounge chairs.<p>

Smiling, she snuck up behind him and leaned against the back of his chair; clearing her throat to catch his attention. Looking up at her quizzically, the questions seeped out of his face once he recognized her, and in response, flashed her a smile before setting his current read on the table in front of him. "Well, well, if it isn't my new best friend."

Smirking, Miranda rolled her eyes and moved to sit in the lounge chair across from him. "Do you, somehow, manage to function without eating?"

"I only manage to eat in the cafeteria during dinner. The rest of my free time I spend here. I've become fascinated with the Protheans, and I've read hundreds of scientific journals published since the discovery on Mars. Have you ever read any of them?"

"No," Miranda said, tilting her head in interest. "No, I can't say I ever had the time to sit down and read hundreds of case studies about the Protheans. Much less, any book really."

"Well, I try and keep up with today's scientists. Maybe all my knowledge will come in handy once day. Did you know, the Protheans gained their technology and intelligence from an extinct race that came tens of thousands of years before them? Scientists have found some remains from that empire, but not enough to gather any substantial information on them. All that remains of the past, is what remains of the Protheans."

"It seems to be a reoccurring theme within Cerberus to be interested in the Prothean race, and their history. I've read a few news articles here and there, but I haven't researched as extensively as some of the others here."

"You'll learn constantly while you're here, trust me. You don't need to research anything, just show up to your training sessions and put forth an effort. From there, everything you need to know, will be taught to you along the way. Speaking of which, how was your first Assault Training session?"

"I absolutely loved it," she answered with a glowing smile. "My trainer is amazing."

"Who is training you?"

"Lillian Novachek. She's so much fun to be around, and all morning, all we did was talk and fire guns at random things strewn about in this facility."

"Damn...you're so lucky," Skye sighed, sitting back dejectedly. "I have another infiltrator who trains me, and I'm almost certain that he's crazy."

Laughing, Miranda pulled her legs under herself and comfortably rested her head against her hand; looking across the table into the azure gaze of her peer. "Crazy you say? How so?"

"He's a paranoid conspiracy theorist."

"Say no more," she smirked. "I'm sure that leads to some incredibly interesting conversations."

"It's actually just a lot of mumbling on his part, while I work on modifying my sniper rifle and getting my shot," he muttered, shaking his head. "I basically train myself, and that crazy bastard just sticks around because the Illusive Man tells him to."

"Well, if you're to the point that you're teaching yourself, I doubt you'll be here much longer. You very well might be shipped off to your cell sometime soon," Miranda hypothesized, even though the thought of losing this stranger created an uncomfortable, and sickeningly familiar pang within her chest. "You've been here for while, haven't you? Surely you deserve to move on from training."

"I've been here close to a year," Skye nodded, rubbing his fingers against the light-colored stubble that clung to his cheeks. "I guess I'm a late bloomer when it comes to being an Operative."

"I seriously doubt that," she argued with a soft whisper. "I bet the Illusive Man has plans just for you, as he does for all of us. Maybe all you need to do is be patient."

"I've been patient, Miranda, but let's face it. He has plans for you. You're...well, you're... no doubt the Illusive Man has far greater plans for you then he does for me, or anyone else in this facility. Nonetheless, I will do what the Illusive Man tells me, and I will serve him with my undying loyalty."

"You sound jealous, Mr. Turnick."

"Maybe only a little," Skye confirmed with a smile. "But I can't measure up to perfection, and I accept that."

"I'm not perfect," Miranda insisted, with a cool tone that sent an icy chill shooting through the room. "Please...don't insist that I'm perfect, because I am no where close."

"Fine," he nodded, cold chills rising on his arms at the sudden flash of hot, white anger that appeared on Miranda's beautiful face. "I won't insist, but I will believe what I believe."

Seeing that he clearly hit a nerve, Skye pulled up his omni-tool as an excuse to break their eye contact, and checked the time. "I'm sorry," he began quietly. "But I have to return for my afternoon sessions. I apologize if I've offended you."

"You haven't," she insisted, even though every muscle within her was rigid as she stood from the lounge chair. "It's just a...sensitive topic."

"Well, even so, I apologize. Maybe I'll see you at dinner, if you'll allow me to join you."

"Of course," she nodded, crossing her arms tightly as the world 'perfect' seemed to echo menacingly within her mind. "I would love your company."

"Then I'll see you later," he said, nodding to her before he picked up his case study and turned to leave.

Huffing, her arms remained deftly locked under her breasts, while flames of anger spread throughout her entire body. She knew Skye only meant well, but she was light years away from Earth, and the oppressive hand of her father still lingered. Frustration and hatred boiled deep within her, and an irrational want took over as she imagined obliterating 'perfect' from every being's vocabulary. The worthless idea of perfection haunted her, and now every mirror that she looked into, all she could see was an empty sell – a faux human that just wasn't good enough.

Turning to the windows that lined the walls of the library, she moved closer and fought the urge to send her hand flying through the brittle glass. Instead, she reached out, and allowed the cool temperature to sooth the fire she felt inside of her. Weakened, she rested her forehead against the window and closed her eyes, sighing before she found the energy to speak.

"I swear," she whispered spitefully; her words squeezing out from between her teeth. "I will personally escort that bastard to hell, and take back everything he has torn away from me."

* * *

><p>Even after another four hours of training, the tension between Skye and Miranda remained palpable. He spoke in a voice with no emotion, and she retorted with short, clipped sentences that merely hinted at the spite that resided within. They talked about nothing meaningful, and after so long, Miranda had to excuse herself before words passed from her lips that she would regret.<p>

Returning to her room, her anger roared unchecked, and her biotics snapped around her dangerously. Clenching her fists, she pushed air out from between her teeth, and tried her best to calm herself. At that moment, her terminal rang out, and an email materialized on the screen. Settling herself in the chair before her desk, her eyebrow rose quizzically as she viewed the sender's name.

"Illusive Man?" she whispered to no one in particular. "What does he want?"

_Miranda,_

_I have been observing your progress, and you have been doing extremely well your first few days, but I can't help but notice that a few things are bothering you. I've done some digging, and have forwarded you two letters you might find interesting._

_-Illusive Man_

Interest peaked, she pulled up the two links and waited for the information to download. A light ping rang out when the first file completed its download and covered her screen. Quirking her eyebrow, her eyes fell on a drawing of the Sydney Opera House and the name "St. Vincent's Hospital" printed beside it. Scrolling down, a written report took up the space of the paper, and a fancy doctor's signature was scrawled across the bottom. Thankful that the report was typed, she scrolled up, and started reading from the beginning.

_First Name: Niket_

_Last Name: Unknown_

_Eye Color: Brown_

_Hair Color: Black_

_Height: 6'1"_

_Weight: 175 lbs_

_Condition: Critical_

_Transported to St. Vincent's from the Lawson Corporation Dormitory Facilities. Currently in intensive care due to severe internal bleeding and the shattering of bones precariously close to significant organs such as the heart and lungs. Emergency surgery will commence while kin are found and contacted._

_Reports will be filed periodically._

_-Doctor Robert Taylor M.D._

Heart sinking, Miranda's hands shook as she swiped her sweaty fingers across her terminal screen to view the second page attached to the doctor's report. Eyes growing hazy, she blinked furiously in her attempt to clearly see the text residing before her, but ultimately failed when the blurry vision returned tenfold.

_Private Transaction_

_To: St. Vincent's Hospital_

_390 Victoria Street_

_Darlinghurst NSW 2010, Australia_

_(02)8382 9360_

_Amount: $500,000.00_

_From: Miranda Lawson_

_Private Corporation_

_Request: As an official donor to St. Vincent's Hospital, I request that the amount of five hundred thousand dollars be donated to a current patient by the name of 'Niket'. Let this money pay for any surgeries, scans, and housing. Feel free to do with the remainders what you please._

Lips parted in a gasp, Miranda sat back and placed her fingers against her lips; two stray tears falling from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Silently, she thanked the Illusive Man, and took a moment to reread the transaction that he had put forward in her name. Sighing, she reached forward and selected the second file; a bright smile replacing her once worried one when she noticed that it was a letter to the Illusive Man from the social worker overseeing Oriana's adoption.

_Illusive Man,_

_No need to make this longer then it needs to be. I've visited the family, and Oriana has bonded easily with them. She's clearly happy, and adapting well to her foster parents. No doubt, they'll be a wonderful family to her, and she will grow up properly._

_I will continue monitoring the family, and visiting from time to time to make sure everything is working out fine._

_TJ_

Pulling up the original email, Miranda typed in a lengthy 'thank you' and sighed as all the stress that had built up within her seemed to slide off her like water. Niket was in good hands, and Oriana was happy; which were the only two things she had wished for since she had escaped from her father's clutch. Smiling, she sent the email to her boss, and turned off her terminal. Standing on her still sore legs, she flopped into her bed and burrowed down into her blankets; managing to sleep without any difficulty whatsoever.


	11. As Long As You Need Me

**An: As many of you have worried, no this day to day deal won't be the entire story. I'm only doing this for a few chapters so I can explain the process of her training, and then I will jump further into the story so I can keep the plot going.**

**Two, I was informed on fanfiction of a Fan Book Project going on that is devoted to Miranda. The plan is to make a book of letters to the devs, fanfiction, and fan art all about Miranda that will be sent into Bioware at the end of May. The purpose of this book is to (kindly) demand for justice to Miranda's 'ending' in Mass Effect 3. Shepard promised her he would find her, so shouldn't we be given the chance to do just that? Everyone is welcome to help, and any contribution would be appreciated.  
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**This is the link (just take out the spaces): http : / / www. holdtheline. com/threads/ operation-findmiranda- sending-bw-a-poster .1614/  
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**Now, enjoy the chapter. :)  
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**EDIT: Facepalm for failing to put in line breaks. D:  
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* * *

><p>As Wednesday rolled around, a solid morning routine had formed, and without any trouble at all, Miranda was showered, dressed, and well on her way to the cafeteria before the facility wide alarm rang out. She ate breakfast in silence, observed the world outside of the facility, and when time permitted it, she went to the room labeled D42, which was nothing more then a small auxiliary gym that in no way measured up to Buckner's room. Entering the gym, she sighed and waited; eyes downcast as absent thoughts floated through her mind, and random memories appeared as her brain continued to wander. Jolted from her reverie with a physical jump of fear, the doors slammed behind her, and she turned quickly to see Lily looking at her with an amused glint in her eye.<p>

"Why so jumpy, Miranda?" she asked, walking further into the gym, before stilling in front of her student and placing her arms behind her back. "Guilty conscious?"

"Not so much," Miranda shrugged off. "Just...thinking. Why are you here today? I thought I was supposed to have another trainer for my Class Specialization sessions."

"Usually, you are," Lily nodded, smirking and tilting her head in emphasis. "But, I received an email last night from the Illusive Man, and he believes that the bond we have established will be beneficial to your training. From here on out, I will be your mentor, and will be monitoring all of your sessions. Though, Buckner will still teach basics...sorry, I couldn't get you out of that one."

Laughing softly, the teenager failed to snuff the fiery glimmer of excitement that touched her features at the thought of being under Lily's guidance for the remainder of her time training at the facility. Watching the same look appear on her mentor's face, the two broke into laughter, and the Englishwoman stepped forward and enveloped her student in a tight hug. "Trust me, it's okay to be excited."

"I am," Miranda assured, holding Lily's arms as she pulled away from her. "I couldn't have asked for a better mentor."

"Well, I'm flattered Miss Lawson. Thank you."

"No problem," the Aussie laughed, walking further into the gym and stretching out her leg muscles. "So, what does today's regimen entail?"

"Well, during CS sessions we focus on how to improve your worth on the battlefield. I'm sure you've at least heard of the class system, and are aware that everyone has a class. There are six classes that you need to be aware of; the tough and versatile Soldiers, the powerful Adept biotics, the biotic, hard-hitting Vanguards, the tech expert Engineers, the sneaky, tech-savvy Infiltrators, and last but not least the defenders – the Sentinels. One of the reasons I was assigned to be your mentor is because we share the same class. You told me you rely on biotics and tech expertise, and that you have managed to fight off mechs without a gun. Therefore, you are a Sentinel, and the defender of the party. You and I have the ability to manipulate the battlefield to our advantage, and without us, a party could very well fall apart," Lily explained, watching as Miranda listened intently. "Now, do you know much about your class other than what I've just told you?"

"No. A friend of mine here hypothesized I would be a Sentinel, and offered only what you just said. Other then that, I know nothing."

"That's perfectly fine. If I go too fast, don't hesitate to tell me to slow down, but I doubt that you'll have trouble following," her mentor said, moving further into the gym and motioning for Miranda to stay where she was. Pressing a button on the wall, large punching bags descending from the ceiling before Lily, and the Operative waited until the mechanics stilled and she was ready for her demonstration.

"Sentinels have two modes of fighting, as everyone does. Offensive, and defensive," she began, a light purple glow starting to emanate from her body. "Defensively, we have the ability to create kinetic barriers around our squad, to ease the brunt of the attacks."

Clenching her fist tightly and quickly, the light purple glow erupted into a vicious light that soon relaxed into a constant wave of color that flowed over the Sentinel's every curve. Turning from the bags and looking upon her pupil, she placed her arms out beside her, and allowed the teenager time to look before she continued to further her explanation. "This is what a kinetic barrier looks like. Basically, it's another shield, and it could very well save your life in the end. While fighting, I recommend keeping this on yourself at all times, and on your squad mates as much as possible. Now, I want you to try this. Focus your energy, and imagine the barrier to be another layer of skin."

Sighing, Miranda closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles. Her fingers clenched and she could feel the heat of her biotics surrounding her as the energy started to flow through her nodes and circle around her. Listening to Lily's words, she focused solely on her skin and forced the flow of energy to pulse out from her nodes, but stop at her skin. Opening her eyes, she held her hands up, and smiled as a bright blue glow shimmered around her and cast spots of blue all around her.

"Good," her mentor nodded, smiling brilliantly. "You're an excellent biotic if you managed to nail kinetic barrier your first time. Most Adepts have to try upwards of one hundred times to manipulate the energy within themselves. I'm sure you know as well as anyone that manipulating the world outside of your body is far easier than manipulating within yourself."

"It is, at least for starting biotics," Miranda agreed. "Being a biotic demands that you know how to redirect energy within yourself. If you don't, then you can't use your powers."

"Very true, Miranda. Excellent insight."

Offering her a nod of approval, the Operative turned back to the punching bags hanging from the ceiling and allowed the flare of her biotics to pulse from her hands. "Now...onto the offensive. We have three defining skills that are extremely helpful in a battle setting. First is throw, your standard mass effect field manipulation technique. Throw, though pointless to some, can be damaging if you know where to shoot. You can't throw people around randomly, unless you are being overwhelmed, but even then you should have a level and decisive head. Take in your surroundings as quickly as possible, and aim for an area that will pose damage to your enemy. This could be anything from machinery, to heavy crates, to the broken window overlooking a balcony."

Smiling, she stepped back and shot her hand out; the light purple glow circling around one of the punching bags and dislodging it from the ceiling. Curling her fingers, she pulled her hand back and shot it out in the direction of the weights that resided in the corner. With a loud bang, the heavy bag slammed into the ground and shot weights every which way with the intensity of its impact. Looking over her shoulder, the Operative nodded, and Miranda turned to focus her attention on another bag.

Circling her biotics around her prey, she grunted as the weight of the bag proved a struggle for her to lift. Focusing the output of her energy through her arm, she shot her hand towards the other corner, and threw the bag into the weight bench that was placed there. The force behind her throw was enough to send the bench toppling, but once her arm lowered, she noticed a light sweat had broken out on her forehead, and that an extensive amount of energy was needed to execute her throw while Lily made it look easy.

"Very good, but don't over exert yourself. We'll strengthen your biotics properly tomorrow, and soon throwing two hundred pound men will prove effortless."

"You don't have to worry," Miranda insisted. "I'm just...a little out of practice with Throw. I always fought mechs, so I used Warp and Overload as much as I could."

"And that brings me to the other two offensive moves that you are already aware of. Mind telling me what each power accomplishes?"

"Warp calls forth a biotic field that deals damage to enemy targets, and stops health regeneration, while Overload is a tech ability that is best used to render shields useless and take down synthetics. Though, you can also use it on organics, as the ability will send a jolt of electricity through your opponent and even has the ability to jump to a nearby target."

"Correct, can you demonstrate?"

"Of course," Miranda laughed, stepping forward and opening her omni-tool. Locking her eyes on one of the two bags that remained hanging, she typed in a command into her tool and extended her arm forward as the bolt of electricity left her wrist and went straight into the sand bag. The fabric at contact burnt and sand sunk to the floor as Miranda quickly turned and shot her other hand out; slicing another bag in half with her Warp ability. The soft rustle of sand filled their ears as it fell to the ground, and Lily laughed as she walked to the bag that played victim to Miranda's Overload, and patted out the fire.

"Very, very good. I can see that you did rely heavily on your Warp and Overload, seeing as how you tore these two bags to shreds. I feel like your abilities are wasted on unresponsive objects, and that your CS training should be live. Do you feel up to fighting a few watered down synthetics today?"

"I don't need them watered down," the student insisted. "I can handle whatever you plan to throw at me."

"I know you can, Miranda, but it's a matter of feeling comfortable," Lily stated, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head. "Are you comfortable with fighting synthetics in a live session today, or would you rather wait and build up to that."

"I said I can handle it," she half snapped. "Do as you please, and I will follow your orders."

"Fine," the Operative nodded with a slight frown pouting her lips. "Maybe a little live training will do you good. Fighting can be peaceful at times, when you grow into the habit of thinking clearly in the heat of it all. Follow me, and we'll go down into the arena."

Without hesitation, Miranda followed after her trainer, and instantly felt a nagging within her that flared with the use of her disrespectful tone. Like Skye, she knew Lily only meant well, but it seemed that everyone around her knew about the scars from her past, and insisted on prodding them to make sure they were healed. Yes, she was put through hell, and she was well on her way to a breaking point, but she emerged alive, and held the last laugh on her father. She wasn't a helpless child anymore, but everywhere she turned, people insisted on comforting her. She didn't need comfort, and as she moved into the circle in the middle of the arena, a sense of cool detachment poured over her as an alarm alerted her of oncoming enemies, and her Overload caused a satisfying explosion to the first mech that rounded the corner.

* * *

><p>She could feel the energy draining from her, but her adrenaline was running high, and her eyes were widened wildly as she turned towards her mentor hidden behind the safety shield and nodded. "Again," she demanded, knowing she could handle another wave of mechs lurching towards her as they attempted to terminate their threat. "Give me another wave."<p>

"No," Lillian argued, her brows pressed together and a look of concern and confusion resting upon her face. Abandoning her safety, she walked into the arena and moved to her student; easily noticing the pent up energy that was within her. Even from feet away she could see her fingers itching for action, and her muscles twitching in response to the thrill. She acted like a maniac, and Lily could feel a hidden anger seeping from Miranda as her back remained turned to her teacher, and her eyes remained trained on the door where the mechs entered. "Miranda, what is going on with you?"

"I said I can handle another go," she answered in an eerily calm voice. "Please, initiate the sequence."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Lily said, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest and steeling her features. "You're acting like a complete lunatic. What has gotten into you?"

"It's nothing," Miranda spat with a vicious tone that could have very well contained venom. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes were wide and swirled with conflicting emotions. Huffing, she turned back to her vigil and simply said, "Begin the sequence."

"You're lying to me, Miranda. There isn't 'nothing' going on with you. Now, tell me what the hell is going on."

"I said it was nothing!" she yelled, spinning on her heel and focusing her predaceous gaze on her teacher. "Stop undermining me and listen to what I have to say! I'm perfectly fine, and I'm ready for another session! Now go and start the sequence. I'm not as weak as you all are pegging me to be. I don't need to be babied."

"I know you aren't weak," Lillian whispered, tilting her head and pouting her bottom lip out in sympathy. "You are without a doubt the strongest person I have every taught-"

"Then why do you not continue our session? Do you think I am so weak that I can't handle another round of your pathetic mechs?"

Sighing, the Operative rested her gloved fingers against her forehead, and slid them down until she could massage the bridge of her nose. She had seen this turmoil before in many of the kind that came through the facilities, and frankly, she didn't expect to have to have this conversation with her star pupil. Lily, and the Illusive Man alike made sure she was treated like royalty within Cerberus, but clearly being spoiled wasn't enough, and her constant vicious tone was enough to cause Lillian to lose her patience and grow angry in response. Letting her hand fall in resolution of her musings, the mentor settled her hands on her hips, and looked at the angered teenager with a cool gaze that immediately made Miranda feel like her innards were shrinking. "And, would you like to inform me of who you are trying to prove yourself to? Feel like you can't measure up to Cerberus' expectations, or perhaps it's something, or someone else?"

Looking away from her angered mentor, her eyes fell to the floor, but anger of her own continued to fester right beneath her skin. She felt her hands shaking, and her biotics started to flare before the tears blurred her eyes and she focused her energy on the wall beside her. The sound of her fist resonated around the arena, and the dent left by the use of her biotics sufficed in calming her enough, but when she spoke, she still spoke with an exasperated tone that constantly broke under the weight of her tears. "Everyone, dammit! I'm trying to prove myself to everyone! I don't understand why people can't just see me as an equal...as a normal teenager devoted to what she believes in, but instead, everyone seems to see me and just see my father. And because of that all they do is pity me, and try and use my future to remind me that at least it will be better then my past. Why can't people just fucking stop?"

"For one, we do treat you as an equal here," Lillian snapped, taking a step towards her trainee and making sure she had her fearful eyes focused solely on her mentor. "And we don't use your future here as bait to stay with us. We constantly remind you of the plans made for you, because we need you to realize that you're going to have to work to obtain that future. The position of Top Operative will not be given to you, and no doubt the Illusive Man will ask you to aid him loyally until you are mere steps from your death before he deems you worthy enough. You have potential, but this idiotic, adolescent mindset is blocking that, and acts as a large backtrack from everything we are trying to accomplish."

Spitting, she crossed her arms tighter under her breasts and towered over Miranda who shrunk back and wrapped her shaking arms around her shivering body. Calling for her attention, her eyes focused on her teacher, and her stomach seemed to fall deeper into her body when all she saw on Lillian's face was regret and disappointment.

"Now," the Operative began, standing her ground over her student, but speaking with a much more cool, and detached tone. "If you want to be treated like an equal, I will say to you what I have said to all of the other trainees who have had this problem. Get over it. The pity you think everyone has for you, is actually reflected from within. You are making yourself weak with these thoughts, and it is both sickening and unfortunate. Now, I'm going to leave you to think. When you want to make an effort, and stop feeling sorry for yourself, you can find me, and we'll talk about if I see it fit to train you any longer."

Mouth falling open in surprise, tears anew formed on Miranda's cheeks, but these were colored with self-hatred and self induced disappointment. She watched as the mentor she idolized turned on her raised heel and left her alone with the carnage of the mechs she tore apart. Running her fingers through her hair, Miranda grunted and crouched down as emotions welled within her unchecked, and seemed to spill over every time she attempted to build a wall to stop them. Sighing, she sat in the center circle and pulled her knees to her chest. There, she settled her forehead on her bent knees and let the tears fall through her legs and onto the floor. Remaining still, her ears strained to hear sound, but in the arena she heard nothing, and instead let the silence wash away the feelings of resentment that poisoned her blood and turned her into the exact opposite of the person she wanted to become.

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><p>The lounge where she found Lillian was completely empty, safe for the Operative sitting in a comfortable looking black chair, that was staring forward at nothing in particular. When Miranda entered, Lily's attention rose to meet her trainee, but her face was still laden with disappointment, and Miranda's heart sunk as the gravity of her attitude continued to press down on her. Remaining still just inside of the room, she placed her hands before her and looked down to her feet before she locked eyes with the Cerberus agent.<p>

"Well?" Lily asked, when Miranda didn't immediately speak. The only word she offered was clipped, and clearly dripped with annoyance, as if she was nothing more than a pestering child demanding for attention.

Swallowing her pride, the training Operative tilted her chin up and looked at her trainer with eyes drained of pride, and any emotion other than apathy. "I am well aware I spoke out of line back at the arena, and I have come to apologize. I thought a lot on what you have said, and every word was true. I hold more resentment towards myself, because I don't feel like my own person, and I believe that everyone somehow knows that, and has that resentment towards me too. The emotions I held were completely idiotic, and ignorant towards what I wanted. If I want to move forward and make something of myself, I have to push away everything I held onto before, and realize that I am among equals and superiors here. I would be honored if you would agree to continue my training, but I understand if you don't want to deal with my attitude."

Focused on the student, Lily held her chin between her fingers and observed the teenager silently. Her shoulders were slumped, and the pride she usually had behind herself had seeped out after their little tiff. Her eyes were blank canvases, and a soft frown touched her lips when she noticed what she was trying to do. In her attempt to compartmentalize some feelings, she has resorted to shackling all emotions, and keeping them bound like abused and forgotten pets. Sighing, the teacher stood, and approached her student. She placed her hand on Miranda's shoulder and later moved her finger so she could push the girl's chin up and give back some of the spunk that came natural to her. "I know you're trying your best to see yourself in a better light, but what you are doing now, you can't do. You can be yourself, especially around me Miranda, but I know this angry, resentful person isn't you. It's a manifestation that you have allowed to grow, and one that you held on to...but what happened in the past is the past, and there is no use mourning over things you can't change. You can still be that proud, arrogant, intelligent, and incredibly strong girl who enchanted me the first time I met her. You can still be you, while you better yourself. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Miranda nodded, eyes falling even with Lillian's supportive hand. "I understand, but it all sounds hard. I'm not really good with my emotions...so far they've only brought trouble, but like usual, you are correct. The past is the past, and the future is where we must look to. Not only personally, but professionally, as we better ourselves for this organization, and humanity in general."

Sighing, Lily shook her head and wrapped her arms around the teenager. She hugged her tightly, but couldn't find enough energy to tell her that she didn't have to hang on the Cerberus idea to give her purpose. Instead, she simply held her, and felt as Miranda, as lost as she was, began to shake within the embrace. Resting her cheek against her student's soft hair, she supported her as silent sobs shook her body, and every ounce of terror she felt physically melted from her sapphire eyes.

"Listen," Lillian began, whispering softly as the girl clung to her form as if her life depended on it. "Our training won't stop, and I will gladly continue helping you. From what I see, you need it, and I won't abandon you while you need me. Even if we have to have times like this, to keep us both on track, I never want you to forget that I'm here for you, and I will always be here for you. Got it?"

Unable to speak, the Aussie nodded, and silently cursed as she attempted to stop the waterfall of tears that slid from her eyes and into the tightly woven uniform worn by the female Operatives. Shivering, she felt Lily's gloved fingers run down the length of her hair, and a cut off sob echoed when the arms around her tightened and the image of her long-lost Marge filled her mind.

"Good. When you're ready, you can go, and have the rest of the day off-"

"I'm not," Miranda answered quickly, tightening her own grasp around the only person she felt she could rely on in her world currently. "I'm not ready."

"Then I'll stay. As long as you need me."


	12. Meditation and Reconciliation

**An: Alright, I apologize for taking so long to update another chapter (as I did have it written), but I'm going to start updating this story differently. Instead of doing it whenever I get around to writing the chapter, I'm going to update this every Saturday. Once again, sorry for the wait, but at least this will give me time to finish up the chapters throughout this Cerberus section, and start getting into the ME2 timeline, and into the ME2 romance. :D **

**Secondly, I will be able to write a lot more now, as yesterday was my official last day of school. Other then scheduling for my classes and playing at graduation, I never have to set foot into my high school for a good couple months.  
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**Other then that, just enjoy the new chapter, and fuel my muse with reviews. :D  
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><p>The feel of the wind on her face was extremely peaceful as the energy within her pulsed with every breath she took. Her eyes were closed, and all of her focus was directed inwards; towards her core, where the center of her biotics were located. From there, she manipulated the pulse of her energy through every node in her body and timed it with her breathing, to lull her into a calming meditation. An orb of blue surrounded her entire form, that dimmed and brightened in correspondence with the expulsion of her biotics, and the heat of her internal energy calmed her even further, as the wind constantly licked against her skin in an attempt to cool her.<p>

Beside her, Lillian sat, silent and calm as her student meditated. Her eyes stared out into the grassy world, and her ears perked at the sound of wildlife running about around the Cerberus facility. Bird-like creatures flew around, and the beautiful blue sky overhead hung without a single cloud to block the warming rays of the sun. Everything about this place proved peaceful, and as Miranda's biotics fell she could visibly see the stress had lifted from her student's shoulders.

"Meditation is a wonderful thing," Lily said in a voice quiet enough not to disturb the world around them. "It can be used to strengthen your biotics, and help you in battle, but it also helps you clear your mind and relieve you of any stress you have. I would recommend doing it whenever you start to get in over your head."

"I will," Miranda answered, with a voice that was as thick, and as sweet as honey. "I find it extremely calming. Enough to where I want to fall asleep. I felt like I was in a bubble, floating above the world where no one could see me, touch me, or hear me. I was solely by myself, where I could be calm, and be sure that nothing would sneak up to attack me. It was perfect."

"I know the feeling," the Aussie's mentor said, smiling as the bird-like creatures flew closer and swooped around them. "When I first managed to leave colony life, I had the same problems you did. I was running, and didn't know how to stop, or who to trust. I couldn't find peace, even when I slept, and it was driving me mad. I stumbled across Illium, and had a run in with an Asari Justicar. I was under suspicion for theft in the area, but by the time she realized I was innocent, she realized that I was extremely troubled as well. She gave me coordinates for a place she didn't explain, and told me to meet her there when the sun was about to set. When I showed up, she taught me how to meditate. From then on, I used it to strengthen my biotics to where they are today, as well as give myself a level head."

"You've never told me anything about your past," Miranda said, closing her eyes and straightening her back as her biotics circled around her once more. "I'm curious."

"Well, whenever the relay schematics were founded, I left my life on Earth, and found myself on a small farming colony in the Attican Traverse. Mindoir, a beautiful place full of hard working people. I had enlisted with Alliance military long ago, but requested that I do more civilian work, than front line fighting. I got my wish, and worked security on the growing colony."

"Security? What do you mean security?"

"I guarded the roads and the Space Ports when farmers brought there crops in for export. It was a cushy job, and didn't have much action, safe for an accident here or there. One night, at a Space Port far away from any civilian villages, a cargo ship blew up and exposed me to eezo. I was sick for weeks, but came out of the sickness with my biotics. At first I was scared to use them, and every time I tried I ended up hurting myself. It wasn't until after Mindoir that the Justicar taught me how to use them properly.

"Were you one of the first human biotics?"

"I suppose so," Lily said, casting her eyes to the side to see Miranda still entranced by her meditations. "My accident happened in the year 2154. I was only 22, and frankly, I thought the world was caving in on me when it happened. Little did I know that my weeks of sickness, and years of fear actually yielded to powers that save my life time and time again."

"I gained my biotics through transplant surgery," Miranda said, with a smooth, accepting tone. "When I was seven, my father took me into his facility's hospital wing, and I was put under anesthesia before I knew what was going on. Nodes from an Asari where placed around my heart, and in my extremities. I didn't accept the nodes at first, and almost died two hours after the surgery was complete, but my father's expert medical team saved me, and later exposed me to eezo so my nodes would grow."

"Well, I'm glad you can speak so freely about your past now."

"Meditating while doing so helps, as well as being with you. You are accepting, and I have learned my lesson...but enough about me. What exactly happened on Mindoir that caused you to leave?" Miranda asked, breaking her concentration enough for her to look at her trainer out of the corner of her eye.

"It was a personal matter, I suppose," Lily explained, looking down to the building's roof they sat on, before she directed her eyes towards the sky. "I fancied another soldier I worked with, but I was relatively new to any sort of romantic relationship and naturally, I was scared. One night, he grew a little too impatient, and tried to force himself onto me. Not the smartest idea if your victim has a gun..."

"That's horrible," her student muttered, stopping her meditation and turning her head. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"It made me stronger," she responded, reaching over and settling her hand on Miranda's wrist. "Just as your struggles have made you stronger. He never actually hurt me. I shot him a few times in the leg before anything scarring happened, but even still, I trusted him above everyone, and it was confusing that he cared so little that he would have resorted to hurting me to satisfy his urges. After that, I couldn't stand to be on the same planet with him, so I caught the next ship to Illium and tried to find work there. After having a run in with that Justicar, I met a Cerberus scientist, Dr. Chandana, who swayed me into the organization. To this day, he is still my best friend, but he is off in a scientific cell that I know nothing about."

"Do you two still manage to keep in touch?" Miranda asked, mind automatically floating to her memories of Niket, and the image she had formulated of him lying in a hospital bed.

"Oh yeah," Lily laughed. "We talk every night, but comm networks will never be the same as being in person. Hopefully one day, possibly after training you, I'll be directed towards a cell of his and we can be reunited, but if not, I'm content speaking to his hologram, knowing that he's out there somewhere."

Sighing, the teenager pushed herself to her feet and walked closer to the building's edge, looking out at the mountains that circled around the facility. Closing her eyes, she remembered almost identical mountains circling her father's facility, and remembered the many days she spent with Niket on the roof; escaping from the world downstairs. "I left my best friend behind in Australia. He helped me escape from my father, and almost died trying to hold off the soldiers that were sent for me. The Illusive Man forwarded me a correspondence, saying he located Niket in St. Vincent's Hospital, and that he donated money in my name to help him recover."

"That was awfully kind of him."

"Yes, it was. I couldn't explain to you in words how happy I felt knowing that Niket was alive, and that...at least someone close to me managed to help him," she said, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of her neck. "But...I miss seeing him every day...talking to him, being with him in general. He was always there for me when I needed him, and now...well...it's hard not having that solid person there."

"I completely understand," Lily said, rising to her feet and moving to Miranda's side. "I felt that way when Chandana was transferred to another cell, and I was ordered to start teaching here. I was barely out of training myself, and the whole time I had Chandana to lean onto whenever I needed him. You learn to stand on your own eventually, but that place in your heart solely for them will never be replaced."

"I know," the Aussie smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. "One day I'll talk to him again, but I have to worry about my training, and he has to worry about getting better. When the time comes, one of us will find the other."

"That's a positive way to look at it, Miranda," the Englishwoman said, smirking and turning to take her seat on the roof once more. "Come on, let's meditate for just a little bit more, then we can raid the cafeteria. We'll be starving after all the use of our biotics."

Chuckling, Miranda shook her head and took her seat next to Lily. She closed her eyes, and let her hands rest on her crossed legs before she focused on her core, and took a deep breath that flared her biotics. Letting herself fall into the abyss, her breathing and biotics easily fell into synchronization, and the two sat in their own little worlds, as all of their demons were washed away, and were replaced by the pure energy pulsing from within them.

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><p>Driven to find Skye after leaving their last conversation with a sour note, and not seeing him at all the day before, Miranda took part of her lunch break to go find the infiltrator. As usual, she found him in the library, but instead of reading, he simply stood in front of the windows and looked out into the grassy world. Bottom lip pouted out, she could clearly see the thoughts rolling through his head, but she had absolutely no idea as to what they were about.<p>

Clearing her throat to get his attention, he turned his head to look at her, and smiled briefly as the tension between the two returned in full force. Nodding to her, he faced her, and crossed his arms comfortably over his chest. "Hi," he ventured, unwilling to say much else.

"Hey," she responded, running her fingers through her hair and stepping closer to her friend. "I've had a rough couple of days, and I came to say that I'm sorry. I overreacted for no reason whatsoever, and I have no right to treat those around me as terrible as I have been. I'm sorry and...I hope that you accept my apology."

"I do," Skye said, with a soft smile touching his lips. "I could tell you had a lot of things weighing down on you, but I see that some of your training has taken that away. What's your secret?"

"Lillian took me up to the roof, and she taught me how to meditate with my biotics," Miranda answered, walking to his side and relishing in the heat of the sunlight that streamed through the windows. "It strengthens your biotics, and proves to be very helpful if you're trying to clear your thoughts. Lily has been such a help over the past couple of days, but...I'm ashamed to say that I treated her the same way I did you. I'm sorry."

"You already said that," he shrugged, walking to her side and casually slinging his arm around her shoulders. "I know everyone has their problems, Miranda, and I know not to assume that everyone I speak to has dealt with those. I apologize for troubling you, if I ever do it again, just tell me to shut up."

"I think I'll be okay from now on," she said, as she slipped her own arm around her friend's waist. "My head is clear, and I'm ready to continue my training without any hindrances to slow me. I have things to prove, and a galaxy to better."

"Aiming a little high aren't we?"

"Eh, why the hell not? The more you dream, and the more you strive, the better you'll do, right?"

"I suppose so," Skye nodded, smiling and looking down at the beautiful girl leaning into his side. "So, now that we've cleared all that up, what are you doing after your evening training session on Saturday?"

"Probably what I usually do...getting a shower, and heading to bed," Miranda answered, an unexpected flush appearing on her porcelain cheeks. "Why? Have something planned."

"Possibly," he laughed. "But only if you would be willing to accompany me. Since no one has training on Sunday, Saturday is usually the night to stay up and have some fun. How about spending the night with me, and we can find something entertaining to do around this facility?"

"Okay," she agreed, gently biting her lower lip. "I suppose spending the time with you will be more entertaining then sitting in my room and staring at the wall."

"That it will be. We usually don't get time to go out into the courtyard throughout the week, but it's a wonderful place to wind down after all of our sessions. I'm sure you'll appreciate it," he said, nodding towards the building that stuck out and blocked the courtyard's view. "It's behind there. It has a huge fountain in the middle, and whenever there is a full moon, it makes the water look like flowing silver."

"It sounds gorgeous."

"Just wait until you see it," he muttered with a squeeze to her shoulder before he stepped away from her and went to grab the two folders that he had set on a nearby desk. "I wish I could tell you more about it but, as usual, our meetings have to be cut short. I have to get back for my evening session, sadly. Will I see you at dinner?"

"As long as you show up," Miranda smirked, crossing her arms and quirking an eyebrow as if to pose a challenge.

"Well, who would I be to stand up such a beautiful woman?" Skye asked, smiling brilliantly while she offered only a simple eye roll in return. "I'll see you later Miranda."

"See ya Skye," she called after him, waving as he left the library and turned down the hall towards a wing on the opposite side of the facility. Sighing, she let the heat from the sun warm her skin further, before she walked deeper into the library and skimmed for something that would catch her interest. Stumbling on a cluttered desk towards the back, her attention caught a file that was resting on top of a stack of books. Nearing it, she saw a small note printed on the file cover that ordered that the information be delivered to Skye Turnick as soon as possible. Shrugging her shoulder nonchalantly, she picked the file up, and traced his name with her fingers before she opened the file and was met with a picture of a blue sphere and information on the planet that was aptly named 'Trident'.

"Hmm," she hummed as she looked through the plethora of papers that were clipped to the file. "Nothing here seems important...just basic geological profiles and some vague history on the Cerberus cell that was set up there not too long ago. Why would Skye need this?"

Deciding it did not interest her, she closed the file and placed it back where it was, before she left the library and decided to walk the long way back to the place where she was supposed to meet Lily after lunch.


	13. Saturday Night Magic

**An: Sorry for the late post. With work all day, and then a lack of food/water for most of that day, I wasn't feeling well enough to update this when I got home. I'm up now (for a couple minutes at least) and I thought I would throw this up while I can, before I make some noms and go back to bed.**

**Hopefully you guys enjoy this though...it's fluffy.**

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><p>Saturday's sessions came and went quickly for Miranda, and released from her training early, the eager teenager took the chance to return to her room and clean herself up before she met Skye for their evening out. Showering, and quickly drying her hair, she opted for wearing something comfortable, and slipped into the tattered jean shorts that she wore most days when she still lived on Earth. Finding a relatively nice shirt to accompany the outfit, she slipped flats onto her feet and returned to her bathroom to highlight her vibrant eyes with eyeliner and mascara.<p>

With a final examination of herself in the mirror, she smiled at herself, and replaced her tools before she checked the time on her terminal and opted to leave early and mosey the halls while she could.

Following a longer course, she made her way up to the facility's balcony, and walked by the plethora of windows that allowed her to look into the other sessions being conducted for the students. In one room, a girl small in size, but in no way lacking muscle, was sparring with her mentor; trading jabs and quick kicks that resonated off the walls and met Miranda's ears even through the thick glass. In another, a particularly stocky man was weight lifting, but the weights and his entire body were surrounded in his biotic energy. In the last room, the lights were dimmed and large walls were placed around the room like a maze. She could see movement within the maze, but didn't entirely understand what was going on, until she saw Skye pulling himself onto one of the walls. Smiling immediately, she watched as her friend looked around, and then leaped for the ceiling's rafters; perching himself and readying his sniper rifle against him. With a solid breath, the gunshot rocked the glass in front of her, and the heavy mech that was lumbering through the maze fell to his knees, before exploding into shrapnel and wires. Clearly satisfied, a cocky smile reached Skye's lips, and Miranda chuckled as the infiltrator picked his way back to the ground, and disappeared from her sight.

Knowing that the destruction of the mech more than likely marked the end of his session, Miranda moved on, and weaved through the halls until she emerged in sight of the cafeteria, and saw Skye already waiting for her by the door.

"You must have taken the long way if I managed to beat you here," he laughed, running his fingers through his still-wet hair, and smiling his usual charming smile. "Enjoy the show?"

"How did you know I was watching?" Miranda asked, stopping and crossing her arms over her chest as her eyebrow rose in question.

"I caught a glimpse of you when I crawled up into the rafters, and I knew that the feeling of being watched wasn't coming from my instructor. He just sends the mechs in...doesn't really care if I kill them or not."

"Well, to answer your question...yes," she smiled. "I did enjoy the show. You're quiet impressive Skye. I've never seen anyone move like you can, and you're obviously amazing at hiding your position, or else that mech would have just locked his cannons on you and shot you out of your perch."

"I'm flattered," Skye chuckled, pushing off of the wall and walking to her. Extending his hand, she graciously accepted, and allowed him to lead her into the cafeteria that was slowly filling up with students and instructors alike. Obtaining their dinner, they gravitated to their usual table, and sat away from the growing crowd. Settled, and slowly digging into their meals, Skye restarted their earlier conversation, "I've had a lot of practice working security. Most of the time, I was always the one to tail the guys we suspected would cause trouble, and obviously, I couldn't be seen or heard."

"I'm pretty good at finding my way through mazes, and avoiding guards," she joked, "but I've never needed to be that nimble to be successful. How long have you been able to do that?"

"Since I was a child," he answered with a smirk. "I lived in the woods with my family, and we survived on the acres of farm land we had. I always had to help my father in the fields, and I rarely got free time to be a kid. I didn't have any friends except for my little brother, since I lived so far away from any civilization, so we both turned to nature for our fun when we had the time for it. We would hike and climb through trees and explore. Doing all those things helped me become as nimble as I am."

"Why did you leave? Why did you start working security on a colony?"

"My parents were getting old, and my father wouldn't be able to work all of the crops to get enough money to live in a few years time. So, while my little brother decided to stay with them, I caught the next ship to a developing colony, and got a security job so I could send some more money their way."

"What about them now, though? Cerberus surely doesn't pay you to be trained..."

"They don't, but I still don't have to worry about it," Skye explained as a glimmer touched his happy eyes. "I was told through the grape vine, of course, that the Illusive Man admired my devotion to my family, and now he sends a substantial amount of money their way every month as long as I remain loyal and prove useful to the organization. They've been doing amazing lately, and my parents are as healthy as ever."

"That's great," Miranda smiled, instantly thinking of Oriana and Niket. "The Illusive Man has done some amazing things for myself as well. I'm extremely thankful that he is so giving. I would be worrying a lot more if he wasn't, that's for sure."

"I totally agree, and he may just be doing it so we can focus on our training, but honestly, as long as he is helping my family, I don't care about his motives. I would do anything for them...especially my little brother."

"I completely understand," she nodded, her heart lurching as she practically felt the bullets bouncing off her biotics as she remembered running as quickly as possible from the turrets with Oriana in her arms. "I...I have a sister. We have a complicated situation going on, but she means so much to me, and I couldn't imagine if anything happened to her."

Knowing not to push for information, Skye easily danced around the subject, and shot her a reassuring smile as he brought his fork to his lips once more. "Well I'm sure that wherever she is now, she's thankful that you care as much as you do, and she loves you just as much as you love her."

"Thanks," she smiled, leaning on her forearms and pushing away the tray that still contained most of her meal. "I appreciate you saying that. It really does mean a lot."

"No problem," he responded with a grin; mimicking her form and pushing his own tray away. "Wanna get out of here? If we run, we might be able to get the good racing crafts."

"Racing crafts?"

"You've never ridden on them before?" he asked with disbelief, laughing and practically jumping up from his seat. "Good god, Miranda! You haven't properly lived until you've raced over the country side on one of those babies!"

"Well, then by all means," she laughed, standing and throwing away her remaining food. "Show me what I've been missing out on."

"Oh, it'll be my pleasure."

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><p>Laughing, the two rounded a sharp corner on the hover crafts, and Skye glanced over to Miranda before he revved the engine, and bent his knees to prepare for the acceleration he was about to feel. Shooting forward, she smirked at the challenge, and did the same, but dared to go faster and soon shot by him. Racing back to the facility, the wind whipped through her hair, and a smile of happiness remained plastered on her face as she slowed her hover craft to a stop within the garage they gained their crafts in the first place. Removing her feet from the indentation on the foot board, she stepped off the craft and lurched forward slightly when the feel of standing on solid ground confused her body. Chuckling, stability returned to her legs, and she stood straight, watching as Skye slid in beside her, and moved to jump off.<p>

"Well, I see that you owe me ten credits," she stated, leaning into her hip and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, yeah, a deal is a deal," he agreed, ruefully handing over a ten credit credit chit. "I underestimated you Miranda. I didn't think you had the guts, or skill, to win a race against me, but I see you aren't a book to be judged by its cover."

"That's right," she laughed, taking the chit from him and slipping it into her pocket. "I'm glad you've seen the light Skye."

"As am I," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulder and leading her away from the garage. "Maybe now I won't be stupid enough to make a bet with you. Clearly, if I do so, I'm going to lose."

"You catch on so well," Miranda stated, looking up at him and laughing before slipping her arm around him and squeezing softly. "Don't look so grim. I'll stop teasing you eventually."

"Eventually being the key word there," Skye muttered, smirking at her and shaking his head. "Nah, you won fair and square. Gloat all you want."

"I'm more so preoccupied with wondering what we're doing next," she said. "Got anything planned big man?"

"Well, the facility heads show movies all night in the auditorium, there's a lake that we could go swimming in, there are nature trails that lead through the forests...what do you feel like doing?"

"Let's explore a little," Miranda insisted, as they came up to a path that snaked off towards the woods. Looking at him with a smile, she moved away from him and walked towards the dense trees. Reaching the edge of the forests, she pushed away the branches and walked further, immediately feeling the cool air chill her sun-warmed skin. Jogging forward, she followed the path as it inclined, and snaked around the woods in a seemingly never ending path. Catching up with her up on the slope, Skye chuckled and grabbed her hand to stop her.

"If you want a real adventure...don't follow the path," he said simply, nodding to the rocky ledges that led up to the path's destination.

Looking at him curiously, she eyed the slippery, jagged rocks and rested her hand on her hip. "But isn't that dangerous? What if we slip and fall?"

"You are a biotic," Skye answered, looking up the cliff side, and placing his hands into two of the indentations within the rock. "If you fall, which I'll make sure you won't, you can just flare your biotics and cushion your fall. Now come on, it's fun," he finished, before he pulled himself up and expertly crawled over the rocks until he was at a stable place to stop. Stilling, he turned around to look at her, and leaned down to offer his hand to her. Sighing, she followed his movements, and puffed out air as her muscles strained to pull her body against gravity. Slowly, she climbed higher and higher, and even managed to surpass Skye's position without using his help. Determined, she continued to pull herself up the cliff side, and smirked as Skye climbed beside her and glanced at her with surprise in his eyes.

Reaching the top of the cliff, Miranda pulled herself to her feet, and panted softly as the muscles in her arms twitched slightly in response. Glancing at Skye, he laughed and shook his head; looking at her with a look of pure and utter amazement. "I thought you didn't have any practice?"

"I never said that," she insisted, turning and following the last small stretch of the path to the cliff's top. "I didn't climb up trees or cliffs, but elevator shafts help a lot too."

Laughing, he followed after her, and took a seat beside her on a flat rock at the cliff's peak. Looking out over the tree tops, the facility could be seen nestled within the ring of mountains, but they were more so concentrated on the image of the sun setting over the planet's beautiful horizon. Shades of pink and red were painted across the sky, while splashes of blue and orange collided in honor of the sun's setting. The giant red disc was surrounded by a vibrant purple ring, and as the sun set behind the peaks of the mountains, the purple started to spread, until it consumed the entire sky. Watching in awe, Miranda sat breathless as the purple slowly started to fade to black, and stars sparkled into view. Turning to look at her fully, Skye smiled at her mesmerized expression, and instead of looking up with her, opted to view the reflection of the twinkling stars within her cobalt gaze. Softly, he placed his hand on hers, and squeezed her fingers tenderly. Miranda turned her gaze to him, and he smirked at the slightly surprised expression on her face. Standing from their position, he pulled her with him, but kept their hands tightly interlocked as he spoke to her in a bare whisper, and started to lead her down the mountain's path.

"I wanna show you that fountain now..."

* * *

><p>The fountain was absolutely gorgeous, and everything Skye said it would be.<p>

Lit by lights placed in the fountain itself, the water sparkled and easily reflected the twinkling stars that hung happily overhead. Dots of light shimmered within the swirling current, and as the moon rose higher in the sky, the water reflected the light back at the large rock and seemed to transform into liquid silver.

Amazed, Miranda looked to Skye for an explanation, but instead found him staring at her with the reflected light hanging in his eyes. In response, her heart sped up and she tilted her head, but when she began to speak, he slid closer to her, and silenced her with his strong fingers cupping her chin. Smiling softly, his thumb brushed against the softness of her cheek and her plump lips parted in hopes of calming her racing heart and providing her body with oxygen. Chuckling, Skye whispered her name, and snuck his hand behind her neck. Softly, he pulled her closer, and she leaned in without resistance.

Shivering under his touch, her eyes closed, and the smallest of gasps escaped into the air as their lips connected, and molded together without a hint of modesty.


	14. Progress

**An: Here's another chapter. I would probably type more, but I can't see my computer through the tears brought on by The Legend of Korra...**

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><p>Ten months had passed since that night, and as Miranda laid in her bed on a lazy Sunday morning, she thought back on the distance that she and Skye had traversed since then. Given, the distance wasn't very far at all, but Miranda found his company enjoyable, and felt comfortable when she was around him. The frequent kisses, the cuddling, and the eventual sex never felt odd to her, but it often felt like betrayal, especially when she would slink back to her room and find an email waiting for her about Niket's progress.<p>

Since the Illusive Man had first donated money in her name, Niket had soared back to health, and in a few short months he was in physical therapy treating his broken limbs, and punctured lungs. Though, even with extensive physical therapy, constant monitoring, and enough radiation to make him glow, the hospital refused to release him. Many nights, Miranda wondered exactly why the doctor insisted he stay under watch for another couple weeks, and she couldn't decide if it was solely Niket's charms, or an overall pity for the abandoned teenager.

Sighing, she kicked away the covers, and sat up in her bed; running her hands over her face and stretching her muscles before she stood and busied herself with her morning routine. Her shower was quick, she dressed simply, and she completely ignored the alert on her terminal that messages waited for her viewing. Making her way into the hallway, her feet led her towards Skye's room, and without totally realizing, she wound up outside of his room. Raising her hand, she knocked softly on his door, and leaned against the wall while she waited for him to show up.

Looking over her shoulder, a couple of operative trainees left their rooms and headed towards the cafeteria. Huffing, she turned back to Skye's door, and narrowed her eyes when she noticed it wasn't open for her. Pushing off the wall, she knocked against; this time harder, and waited to hear the rustling of sheets, or the opening of the bathroom door. When it didn't come, she flared her omni-tool, and pressed her hand to the lock. The orange circles around her wrist spun in response, and soft clicks met her ears as the tool attempted to unlock the door. Red flashed to green, and the doors slid open; revealing to her an incredibly neat, and incredibly empty room.

Gasping, she walked in and looked around as the familiar room set up was completely gone, and everything seemed utterly barren. The dresser had been emptied, the bed stripped and remade, and his desk had been cleared of all of his family pictures. With one eyebrow quirked, she moved in further, and examined his bathroom, which had been scrubbed to the point of perfection. One glance around would tell anyone that no one lived here, but Miranda couldn't quite believe it, seeing as how she had spent the night before with Skye.

Unsure of what else to do, Miranda left the empty room, and traveled down the hallway towards the instructor's lounge; knowing full well that Lillian would be there, sipping coffee and listening to the other instructors babble on about past experiences. Nearing the room, she could see Lillian sitting amidst the crowd, but she could also see there was no way to get her attention outside the glass walls. Instead, Miranda walked around, opened the door and pushed past the other instructors until she stood face to face with her own.

"Miranda?" Lillian asked in genuine confusion. "What are you doing in here?"

"Where's Skye?"

Suddenly, all the instructors fell silent, and turned their heads towards the Cerberus prodigy. Lillian stood, and rested her hand on Miranda's shoulder, but before she could steer her away from the others, an older instructor laughed from the corner. Glancing over, Miranda observed that the man was jittery and looked around as if someone, or something, was coming to get him, but none the less, he told her what she wanted to know, even though she wished his answer wasn't true.

"He's gone, sweetie! Finally shipped off to his cell, never to return! Did he say good bye? I would hope so. You're such a pretty young thing!"

"What the hell-" Miranda started, but Lillian shushed her, and ushered her towards the door.

"Don't," was all she muttered to her. "Just, head to the roof, and I'll meet you there."

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><p>Sitting on the edge of the building's roof, Miranda waited for her mentor with her arms wrapped tightly around her. The old man's words echoed in her head, and she couldn't quite form the bridges between the story's gaps. Where exactly did he go? When did he leave? Why<em> didn't<em> he say good bye?

Shaking her head, she sighed and turned to look at the door when it opened, and Lily stepped through. Looking dejected, she walked over to her student, and sat by her side before settling her hands on her lap.

"So," Miranda started, her eyes rising to stare off into the distance. "What happened?"

"The man who spoke to you was his trainer. Apparently, Skye was promised a spot in a new Cerberus cell placed on the planet Trident a while ago. He was escorted from the facility early this morning."

"Oh," she muttered, remembering the informational folder about Trident in the library, but not really caring that he didn't tell her. "Well...I guess...good luck to him."

Observing the look on her student's face, Lily rested her hand on Miranda's back, and tilted her head in concern. "I've noticed that you and Skye were...close. I'm sorry, Miranda."

"It's fine," she sighed. "We are here to work for Cerberus, and follow the Illusive Man's orders. If he told Skye to go to Trident and help in overseeing that cell, then there is nothing I can do about it."

"But surely you feel something towards this..."

"Confusion," Miranda muttered, looking over to Lily. "My relationship with Skye was amazing, and fun...but it was confusing."

"How so?" Lillian asked.

"Well, even though we were 'together' for an extensive amount of time, I can sit here and tell you that I never loved Skye like I probably should have," she began, running her fingers through her thick black hair. "But, I can also tell you that he never loved me either. It was more or less a friendship, with added benefits that I surely can't complain about. But, he...he had this hold over me that I could never really understand. I felt...attached."

"Did you have sex with him?"

"Yes."

"That's why," the Operative stated. "You felt comfortable enough around him to be with him in your most vulnerable state. You trusted him, and that's more then a lot of people in your life have gotten."

"You're right, but I felt guilty when I was with him," she spat, shaking her head in disbelief. "My night would be amazing when I was with Skye, and while I was with him I had no regrets, but once I got back to my room, and sat down at my terminal, I always felt guilty. I constantly got emails from the hospital about Niket's progress, and every time I got a new update, I would think back to Skye and feel like I was betraying Niket."

"Well, this Niket person, was he your boyfriend before you ran from your father?"

"No. He was just a friend. Or...at least he was to me. He was always there for me, and every time I woke up in the hospital after a rough training session, he would be there, petting my hair and making sure I was okay. I knew he felt something more for me, but, I never wanted to act on it, until I left."

"What happened when you left?" Lily asked, turning her head to look back at her student.

Chuckling roughly, Miranda rested her forehead in her hands and sighed. Running her hands over her face, she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest as she relived the adrenaline pumping escape. "I found his mother dead...killed by my father because she cared for me. Two soldiers tried apprehending me there, in her bedroom, but I managed to fight them off and find Niket. He was already on his way to find me, as the alarms had been set off, and he told me that a hoard of my father's soldiers were on their way to find me. He had helped me research Cerberus while I was uncovering my father's plan, and he told me to smuggle myself into a ship heading to the Citadel. I didn't know if I was ever going to see him again, so I told him that I loved him, and I kissed him."

"But, when you said I love you..."

"I...I don't know. Maybe then I meant it romantically, because everything was so hectic, and he was always my rock, but...if I had the chance to say it again, I wouldn't mean it in the way he would want me to mean it."

"So you love him," her mentor said, turning so she could sit facing her student. "But you aren't in love with him."

"I don't think so," Miranda began, before she stood and aimlessly paced on the roof. "But frankly, I'm so confused. Even now I can't give you a definite answer."

"Well, let's think of it this way," Lily said, standing and motioning for Miranda to stand by her side. Leaning their forearms onto the edge of the concrete roof, they looked out to the planet's beautiful surface. Trees stood tall, mountains remained resolute, and the glowing red sun flared majestically in the deep blue sky. Wind brushed around them, and an overall silence remained on the relatively untouched planet as Miranda's mind ran. "Imagine this is a perfect world. There is no hurt, there is no pain, there is no deceit. The only thing that exists is happiness and beauty. If this was that world, and Niket was standing here instead of me, would you ever bring him into your arms as your lover, or would you prefer to remain nothing more than friends?"

Sighing, Miranda rested her chin on her hand, and stared off into the world. She imagined this perfect world, and tried to replicate the feeling of total contentment. She pretended she had no past, no resentment, and no scars to remind her of the horror she had been through, and as her eyes closed, she saw Niket's face. He looked young, healthy, and strong, but still had that dorky smile and shy glimmer in his eye that always seemed to be there when she was around. Instead of Lily, Niket stood by her, and his hand covered her own. It was warm, and she felt comfortable, but she knew the gesture meant more to him then it did to her. She opened her eyes, and with an almost sad smile, she shook her head, and pushed away from the edge of the roof.

"No," she said simply. "No. Even in a perfect world, we wouldn't end up together. Niket is my best friend, and I love him, but...I'm not in love with him, and frankly I never was."

Smiling, Lillian rested her hand on Miranda's shoulder, and wrapped her arms entirely around the teenager as she automatically pressed herself into her mentor. "Confused anymore?" she asked quietly, as her gentle hand ran up and down her student's back.

"No," she whispered, sighing softly before she pulled away from Lillian's embrace. "Thank you."

"No problem. On another note, I have news for you."

"What is it?"

Smirking, Lillian wrapped her arm around Miranda's shoulder, and started leading her towards the door that led down into the facility. "In your room, there is a folder waiting for you. I need you to study that folder, and memorize everything that it says by tomorrow. Instead of reporting to Buckner tomorrow morning, report to the cargo bay, and prepare to board at 8."

"Where are we going?" Miranda asked, walking down the steps into the facility, and turning to look at Lily once they walked into the hallway.

"It'll say in the folder," Lily stated, winking before she turned on her heel and walked away from her student. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miranda!"

Curious, the teenager turned and quickly walked to her room. Bursting through the door, she slowed, and lowered herself into the seat in front of her desk before she picked up the folder that was, indeed, waiting for her. Opening it, she flipped a few pages, and narrowed her eyes when she started reading the cell overview of Project TRAPDOOR.

"Omega-enkaphalin?" she tested, as she read up on the disruption of biotic powers brought on by the drug. "What does Cerberus want to do with this?"

Continuing down the text, she read the reports from multiple Cerberus cells that had been infiltrated and almost defeated by strong asari biotics. Detailed essays describing the attack painted the blood bath in her mind, and her eyebrow quirked as she imagined exactly how sneaky and powerful the Commandos really were. Reading further, she learned that the first exposure to O-E was a complete accident. The asari, hellbent on destroying Cerberus' influence on one of their colony planets, raided a particular cell that was experimenting with the drug on multiple unintelligent organisms. A spill turned the favor in the soldier's direction, and the Commandos were either killed or captured without any resistance whatsoever. After such, an entirely new research cell was established to determine exactly what O-E did, and how it can be used to boost Cerberus' chances of survival in the hectic galaxy.

Sitting back, she nodded, and looked out of her room's window. Watching nature around her, facts ran through her head, and questions formed where gaps remained. She knew exactly how to handle this, and she was more than ready to actually prove herself not only to Lillian, but to the Illusive Man.


	15. I'm Proud Of You

**An: Moar time jumps! Getting closer to ME2! And that makes me excited!**

**Now, enjoy, while I await the newest episode of The Legend of Korra, and the latest smash to my sanity! Good day!  
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><p>It was the year 2169. She had been working on Project TRAPDOOR for the past one and half years, and as far as she knew, her work had proven without a doubt that she was Operative material at the young age of 19. She traipsed around in Cerberus' official Operative uniform and caught the eye of every man and woman as the outfit highlighted her substantial bust and behind. With black knee-high heels, flowing black hair that brushed the backs of her shoulders and shimmering sapphire eyes to complete her femme fatale look, she had many colleagues wondering whether she was going to kiss them, or kill them when she walked by.<p>

Even though Lillian remained as her mentor, she was nothing more than an advisor, as Miranda proved more than capable of running the cell and directing it towards success. Currently, Project TRAPDOOR was mere footfalls from discovering every secret hidden within O-E, which would lead to the practical use of the drug, and the determination of how it could help Cerberus. The sight of such discoveries were just over the horizon, and as Miranda walked through the space station's halls, she smirked at the thought of closing the cell so early without a single outbreak of resistance.

Doing so would put her in the halls of Cerberus history, and no doubt gain her a few points with the Illusive Man, as very few of the organization's cells remained hidden and untouched by the Alliance or any other galactic military force. If she succeeded in closing Project TRAPDOOR without a raid, or a mutiny, she would be remembered as the Operative that guided an extremely prominent cell to safety, and wouldn't be released for more than two minutes before she would be shipped to head another cell.

Chuckling at the thought, she turned down another hall, and looked down at the omni-pad she had in her hand. The clacking of her heels resonated into the surrounding halls and labs, and every time she glanced into one of the station's many rooms, she saw every scientist working to their utmost capacity, and every guard patrolling his or her designated route.

Given, her team was most of the reason why the cell was going so well. She had never met so many brilliant scientists, and could barely believe that Cerberus had enough influence to bring all of the brightest beings to one place. Not only the scientists, but the techs that followed, and the guards appointed to guard the station. They were all exceptionally tremendous at their job, and held a respect for her that she was sure she was going to have to demand from the elders.

Nonetheless, they all created one fine, well-oiled machine, and as she pushed into one of the station's labs, she couldn't help but smile as the scientists scurried, and wrote down every spec of information they uncovered. "Alright team," she said, opening her omni-pad to view the notes the scientists had turned over to her. "What have you got so far?"

"Well," one salarian doctor said, moving to the head of their specimen and motioning to the unconscious asari. "We have been experimenting with the O-E, and we are attempting to measure the disruption of biotic power when biotics are exposed to it. Statistically, we have to experiment on almost 2,000 beings to be 95% sure, but we only have close to 150 captives."

"Asari seem to have a particular hatred for Cerberus," Miranda stated, looking through the notes and findings from the captives that had already been experimented on. "Surely, with how often they raid our cells, we can get you enough captives to preform enough experiments, but to do so, we need to know how effective O-E is, and if it can be used to help our biotics. It proves a problem."

"It seems that way," a human woman stated, stepping up to the gurney. "We have done many tests so far, and have experimented on almost every captive held on this station. The estimate would be rough, but we can provide you with one. With that, you can inform the Illusive Man, and he can inform his military response teams. Then, the station's chemists can continue to produce enough O-E for it to be distributed as a biological weapon on Cerberus' side."

"A rough estimate is better than any, and I can orchestrate some tests with your numbers to ensure that the concentration will work," the Operative nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "What have you got?"

The woman stepped away from the gurney, and made her way to one of the many terminals that were set up around the lab. Typing in a few commands, the mathematical work was transferred to Miranda's omni-pad, and the mathematician highlighted her findings from the terminal, before she turned to her boss to explain. "I've been working the numbers since the first ten experiments were conducted. At first, I was incredibly off, but eventually, the numbers started to become relatively consistent between experiments. I estimate that 2.5 milligrams of omega-enkaphalin will be needed for every 25 kilograms of body weight to produce an effect. Though, the optimal situation is to use a dose under 7.5 milligrams to avoid detection by smell or taste."

"So, we'll be fine, as long as we aren't facing an opponent that is over...165 pounds?" Miranda asked, shrugging a shoulder and turning her eyes to the captive. "How much have the captives weighed?"

"None have weighed over 75 kilograms, ma'am," the woman said. "I checked that data as well, to make sure that my information wasn't completely pointless."

"Then good job," Miranda said with a smile. "I'll forward this information to the Illusive Man. He will be pleased. Hopefully, we'll get some more specimens in here so you can conclude your findings."

"Thank you," the salarian said, smiling his bright smile, before going back to observing the screen that was hooked up to node sensors placed across the asari's body.

Nodding, Miranda turned and exited the biological lab, before she directed herself to the chemistry wing. After an extensive walk, she was met with another pair of swinging doors, and pushed into the labyrinth of chemistry labs that existed in a single room. Making her way through the hoard of chemists that milled around in search of their chemicals was almost impossible, and fear of chemical spill kept her from physically pushing the geniuses out of the way. Instead, she roughed the journey, and was soon spat out in front of a large office that the head chemist sat within. Knocking on her door, Miranda waved her hand over the lock, and walked in.

"Operative Lawson," the head chemist said, her brown hair loosely pulled back, and her hazel eyes shimmering from behind her stylish glasses. "What brings you over to the chemistry labs this fine afternoon?"

"It's nice to see you too, Dr. Chase. I just had a meeting with one of our mathematicians on sight in the bio wing," Miranda said, turning on her omni-tool and waving it over Chase's terminal. "She gave me a rough estimate as to how much omega-enkaphalin is needed to form an undetected biological weapon for Cerberus' military sector. I already know your chemists have analyzed the make of omega-enkaphalin, and know how to create it."

"They do," Chase nodded, swiveling in her desk chair to look at the work of the mathematician. "But what is it that you need? Need us to make some O-E for the Illusive Man?"

"I do not know yet," Miranda answered. "I just now got this information. I figured I would give these estimates to you so you can look them over before I ask for your chemists to start producing O-E. I'm going to forward this information to the Illusive Man, and after I speak with him about it, I'll get back to you."

"Alright," Chase smiled, turning back to look at the Operative. "Thank you for bringing this information to me. I'll keep it close and wait for your word."

"No problem," she answered, stepping closer to the door. "I'll try and get back to you as soon as I can."

With that, she turned and exited Dr. Chase's office for the crazy chemistry labs outside. Once again, it was a fight to push through the scurrying scientists, but Miranda managed, and eventually exited the chemistry wing, and headed for the comm channel hotspot that was located in the center of the station. Once there, she walked into a dark, secluded room, and stood on the metal circle that was placed on the floor. Looking straight, a blue grid fell over her body, and bright light shined up and down her as her form was replicated into a hologram, that stood towards the back of the Illusive Man's office. Knowing she was connected, she called out the Illusive Man's name, and waited until he stood on his own sensor, and was formed into a hologram in front of her.

"Miranda," the Illusive Man said, with a voice that seemed smoother every time she spoke to him. "It's wonderful to see you dear. Has the project made headway?"

"One of the mathematicians on the station has given me an estimate of how much omega-enkaphalin is needed to be used as a biological weapon," Miranda said, resting her hand on her hip and smirking at the image of her boss before her. "I thought it would be a good idea to arm our soldiers and security with it, so biotics can no longer overwhelm them, and raid our cells."

"Interesting tactic," the Illusive Man hummed, his lips parting to suck at his holographic cigarette. "As a biotic, I wouldn't think you would have the idea to use omega-enkaphalin as a biological weapon. How do you suppose that our biotics will fare in fights like this?"

"For now, our biotics can go elsewhere, but I'm already looking into that," she responded. "I have a few scientists in the bio wing examining the exact effect of O-E on an organic's body. Their plan is to find the receptors that are susceptible to O-E, and preform nanosurgeries that make those receptors immune to exposure. If those nanosurgeries are successes, then the entirety of Cerberus' biotic forces can undergo the surgery to forever protect them from O-E disruption."

"Very smart idea, Miranda. And you have already began testing?"

"I have, though it's more or less a side cell that can be relocated anywhere you please. I am currently working on a detailed report for you with the scientists current findings and their success with mock nanosurgeries. If you wish, I can transfer the team, and their information to another Operative, so they can be added onto another cell."

"Hmm, eventually, I may find need for them elsewhere, but for now, they'll do best under your command," the Illusive Man said, waving his hand through the air before taking another drag of his cigarette. "When you complete Project TRAPDOOR, I will relocate them, but until then, they are doing just fine in your biology wing."

"Thank you, sir," she said with a smile, lowering her head to look at her omni-tool. "I'll send you the mathematicians estimate now. I've already told Dr. Chase in the chemistry wing about the estimate, and I'm wondering if you would like this cell to start producing O-E for Cerberus' military sector. I can arrange transport, and find a piloting staff that will ensure the product arrives safely."

"You have been doing a wonderful job with Project TRAPDOOR, Miranda, and I know that you have the good of Cerberus at the forefront of your mind. If you think giving the military sector O-E as a biological weapon is a good idea, then I will trust your judgment, and authorize the transports, but in the end, I'm leaving the decision up to you."

"Okay," Miranda nodded. "I believe that our military could use O-E to our advantage, and even more so when we start preforming the nanosurgeries to make Cerberus personnel immune to the effects. I trust my team, and I think they're right. I'll talk to Dr. Chase, and have the chemists start making the O-E, as well as contact a pilot that will transport the cargo to our trading hubs. From there, I will keep in contact with the trading heads, and make sure that the goods are going out to all Cerberus cells that are guarded by, or entirely made up of, soldiers."

"I would like a regular report on your progress."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Thank you, for your time."

"For my star Operative?" the Illusive Man asked, laughing softly. "It's nothing. Good luck, Miranda."

Nodding, their link was cut off, and Miranda exited the comm channel hot spot for another wing of the station. Sighing, she made her way to the lounge, and sat down beside Lillian, who was resting in her traditional lounge chair and drinking something Miranda assumed was coffee. "Coffee, at three in the afternoon? Does it help at all?"

"I don't need an energy boost," Lily smiled, sipping at the sweet drink. "I just like coffee. It tastes good."

Chuckling, Miranda shook her head and leaned back into the soft lounge chair, her eyes closing and her hands immediately going to rub at her eyes. "Well, I need an energy boost. I've been running up and down this station all damn day, but at least things are getting done. I just got out of a comm link with the Illusive Man."

"What was that about?" Lillian asked, as she stood and moved to the lounge's kitchen area.

"He left the decision up to me, but I decided that omega-enkaphalin will be distributed to Cerberus' military personnel, so we have a weapon against the asari Commandos that keep ripping through our cells. He asked me why I felt like it was a good idea, considering I'm a biotic, and I told him that I have a mini cell in my bio lab that is working on figuring out how to make us immune to the effects."

"Yeah," her mentor said, sitting down beside her and handing her a mug full of coffee. "You need coffee."

"Tell me about it," Miranda laughed, taking the mug graciously before sipping at the hot, but oddly sweet treat. "Now, I have to run back to the chemistry wing and tell Chase that O-E production is a go, and I have to find a pilot to fly the cargo to our trading hubs across the galaxy. I'll have to keep tabs on the heads of the trading hubs, just to make sure my products are going where they are supposed to go, and aren't being sold to slavers and drug dealers that fester on some pisshole."

"Sounds like you need more coffee," Lily said, looking over and smiling as her 'student' who laughed heartily in response. "Tell me your secret. How do you manage to control this whole station without killing yourself, or killing someone else?"

"I have no idea," she said. "But, I'm doing it, and somehow, it's working."

"You've come so far in the past two years," the elder Operative said, as she observed how much Miranda had grown since the first time she met her. "I'm proud of you, Miranda."


	16. One Day, You Will Learn

**An: Saturday was a bad day to update this story...all these Korra feels. I can never see to type my AN through my gross sobbing.**

**Enjoy!  
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><p>Two years later, and already acclaimed for her success with Project TRAPDOOR, 21 year old Miranda was relocated to a smaller cell that was hidden on a station close to Earth, but far away from any other civilization. Lillian followed, to observe and support the growing woman, but once again, remained silent while Miranda took over. This time, instead of a station full of scientists, she was graced with a far more intimate staff, that consisted of herself, Lillian, three chemists, a biological expert, and another Cerberus Operative by the name of Pel.<p>

Pel, was a large man, with olive skin, a close cut black afro, and a narrow beard that clung to his prominent chin. His dark eyes were always narrowed, and one of his hands always remained on one of his guns. He spoke with short, clipped sentences, and the few times that he did speak more than a few words, Miranda noticed that he lacked a regard for life itself. Within the first few hours of the cell, she knew Pel was to be nothing more than her monkey when the time came, so most of the time, she didn't speak to him.

Instead, she spent time sitting in her small office, reading over the many files and reports forwarded to her from the Illusive Man to get a grasp on the overall situation. One night, she was joined by Lillian, and her mentor helped her organize the situation that was before her.

"I just...for some reason, this isn't settling right," Miranda said, looking through the folder once more, before she stood from behind her desk and walked to one of the station's windows.

"Religious conscious?" Lillian asked, crossing her arms over her chest and chuckling slightly. "Trust me, if Rodrigo Borgia managed to pay his way into the Papal Chair, we can persuade the other cardinals to vote for the right guy for the job...as long as we find a way to get rid of the first one."

"So, we have to find a way to mask a murder...of the Pope?" she asked, rubbing her hand across the back of her neck. "And then persuade the rest of the College of Cardinals to place our man on the chair?"

"Yes, but he has the hearts of the College already," Lily answered. "More likely than not, we won't even have to worry about the vote, but our man, and Pope Clement XVI are both relatively old. We need to get rid of Clement now, if we want to have any influence on Earth."

"Then we need something sneaky, something that can be passed off as heart failure, or something along those lines," she mused, pacing slightly as her eyes cast to her desk to look at the files once again. "But once we find our poison of choice...how do we go about getting it in his system? If we are to remain undetected, then we can't use anything topical...we won't have enough for an effect. We need to find a way to either slip it into his food, or...or..."

"Or?" her mentor asked, leaning against the wall with a smile on her face as she watched the ideas run through Miranda's head. Moments passed, and all that was heard was the young woman's heels resonating off the walls as she paced in contemplation, but a fault in her step caused her to still, and a bright smirk settled on her lips. "Got an idea?"

"Even though religious hold on the world has thinned since we have migrated from our home planet, that doesn't mean that the holiest of us all still don't spend their days before a sculpture praying," Miranda said, smirking and pulling Pope Clement's picture out of the file and holding it up for Lillian to see. "The rosary beads," she said, shaking the picture in emphasis as the Pope held one hand up, while the other clasped a rosary. "When he prays, he kisses the beads. If we can infuse some sort of poison on the rosary, or within the rosary beads themselves, then when he kisses them-"

"The poison will directly get into his system," Lily nodded, chuckling and pushing away from the wall. "Such a dangerous and innovative mind you have Miss Lawson."

"Well, if it's for the good of humanity, then I am happy to use it," Miranda smiled, sitting behind her desk, and searching through her file until she found the reports on their man in the College. "From what we have already gathered, appointing our man as Pope will allow us to form bonds with the alien races that will push us further up the ranks...and this guy isn't your usual sit around Pope."

"No, he isn't. The plans for this have been in the works for some time, and the Illusive Man has informed me of our guy. He is all about militarizing humanity, and...for some reason...has a forgiving attitude towards salarians."

"Which can prove a useful tactic for forming alliances against turians...since they all seem to hate humans," she huffed, reliving all of the times she had to deal with one of the proud aliens. "And the genophage is a low blow nonetheless. The krogan will never let anyone forget about it, and their military prowess has everyone feeling pity for them. Most people don't think about how much power their empire would have had had all of their offspring lived, instead they cling on to how tragic it is that anyone could release this biological infestation that prohibits rapid reproduction."

"Yes, well, when the leaders of the galactic council lack much rationality and intelligence, they try to make up for it with faux compassion, and half-assed apologies," Lillian spat, huffing and lowering herself into one of the chairs that sat across Miranda's desk. "Sadly, we'll always have to deal with them...stepping in the way and butting their heads into the things they have no business knowing about."

"So far, I've had a lucky streak. I haven't had to deal with their presence directly, but, truthfully, I don't know how the Illusive Man does it. I wouldn't be very hopeful about an organization that was constantly being raided and defeated by Alliance military."

"That is a little tactic we have," her mentor stated, chuckling and crossing her legs. "See...we need to keep the Alliance busy. If we needed a cell to remain hidden, it will remain hidden. No amount of Alliance forces will be able to break through our security, but we also can't openly promote ourselves, as well as remaining hidden. We have a plethora of faux cells placed all around the galaxy for the Alliance to run after and raid. On a rare chance, there are a few important cells that are discovered, but usually, the Illusive Man can destroy all of the data and any information there on a moment's notice."

"Hmm, very smart...but it does result in me spending most of my nights writing reports," Miranda said, turning to her terminal and checking the progress of her chemists.

"Welcome to the wonderful world of a Cerberus Operative."

"Glad to be here," she smirked, without taking her eyes from the screen. "I need to run to the labs, and inform them of the criteria for our poison. Once they figure it out, we'll have Pel switch out the rosary beads and make sure that the Pope dies."

"Thinking back on it...the Pope before Clement died fairly early in his papacy," Lily pointed out. "I'm sure the College is sick of being locked up in the basilica for weeks with shitty meals and no entertainment until they elect a new Pope."

"I sure would be," Miranda agreed, standing and grasping for the lab coat that hung on a coat rack in the corner of her office. "Would you like to join me in the chemistry lab, or shall I meet you in our usual lounge?"

"I'll head to the lounge," her elder spoke. "I'll have a cup of coffee waiting for you."

Chuckling softly, Miranda nodded her head in appreciation, before she left her office, and made the short trek to the chemistry labs located on the other side of the station. Moving into the laboratory, she moved past the few milling scientists, and located the one man who controlled this specific team of geniuses. She found him tinkering with different colored chemicals, as he always did, and she chuckled as she noticed his newly singed eyebrows.

"Have an accident?" she asked, raising her eyebrow in question.

"Only a minor flare," the man said, smiling and peering at her over his wire-rimmed glasses. "They're just hair...they'll grow back, but I'm sure you have better things to do then watch chemists mix the elements together. What is it you need?"

"A poison...one to coat beads on a necklace. Something that won't wear off, and something that will work swiftly, and silently. You know who this poison will be going to, and we plan on having Pel switch out his...'beads' so when he prays, the poison gets on his lips and migrates through his system."

"Well, what sort of attack would you like?" the crazy doctor asked. "A stroke? Brain aneurism? Heart failure?"

"Heart failure," she assured. "Our target is old, and would be likely to die from heart failure on his own...but we need to speed up the process so we can get more people on our side."

"Understood," he said, turning his back to her and directing his attention to a large cabinet filled to the brim with chemicals. "I will test a few situations out, and talk with our biology expert to make sure my cocktails will do the job. Give me...two days. Is that fair?"

"Yes, but keep me updated. I want detailed reports," she asked, nodding to the chemist and saying a quick good bye before she left the lab and headed for the lounge. She walked down the halls proudly, but never saw anyway due to the station's size. Looking down to her omni-tool, she searched through her email for any word from the Illusive Man and grunted when she ran into a solid, muscled chest.

Looking up, she huffed and stepped back; her eyes narrowing in response to Pel's always hostile gaze. "I apologize," she said, lowering her arm. "I didn't see you there."

"It's fine, Miss Lawson," he said, his dark eyes almost the color of coal as he spoke to her in a smooth voice. "May I ask...how much longer will I be on this station?"

"We are currently conducting experiments as to what poison we will be using, and its biological effect on the body. My chief scientist asked for two days. If he has managed to find what he needs in that time, then you will be sent to Earth once the beads have been replicated and the poison instilled."

Nodding, the assassin looked at her as if she was prey, and Miranda pouted out her lower lip in thought. His burning gaze was uncomfortable, and the hair on the back of her neck stood as she recognized that the killer could prove a serious threat to her. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Pel?"

"Are you a religious person, Miranda?" he asked, his squinted gaze returning to normal as he tilted his head in curiosity.

"No," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why do you ask?"

"I simply want to know who it is you answer to when the time comes."

"I answer to the Illusive Man," she huffed, raising her eyebrow quizzically. "As do you."

"I don't mean Tim," Pel spat, shaking his head roughly. "I mean...why are you here? Why do you do the things you do? What do you hope to accomplish before your demise? Is it solely to boost humanity, by any means necessary, or do you strive to do good, but just have a twisted idea of what 'good' really is?"

"By boosting humanity, do we not do good? By making our race stronger, do we end up weaker? I think not. My goals are to help the whole of humanity. All of my decisions might not be the best, but if the downfall of one man helps thousands of people, then you can be damn sure that I'll take that man out," Miranda answered, tilting her head slightly. "Who is it that you answer to, Pel?"

"Myself," he answered without hesitation. "I care of nothing, regard nothing. I have no motive to boost humanity, nor do I have a hatred for my fellow turian or krogan. We are all feeble...mortal, and we are all weak. That is why I am here. I kill to survive, as many others do, but my bluntness scares many...and they see me as a murderer. But they are blind, and fail to see the demons that live inside of them. Whether you are the one creating poison, the one delivering it, or the one orchestrating the entire cell...you have contributed to the loss of someone's life. The plain and simple truth is that we are all killers, and we will all atone for that somewhere down the line. Until then, I answer only to myself."

"Hm...philosophical," she huffed, placing an enchanting smirk on her lips that she knew even Pel couldn't resist. "For a killer."

A smile tugged at the lips of the assassin, and a soft chuckle escaped before he returned to his usual serious demeanor. "Just...answer me this question. True or false. The lives of some, are not as important as the lives of the whole."

"In my eyes, this is true," Miranda answered, staring at the man as she tried to gauge his reaction to her answer.

"Hmm," was all he offered, before he nodded his head and moved to walk past her. "You will learn, little one. One day...you will learn."


	17. I'm Glad You Feel That Way

**An: Here you go. Another Saturday, another chapter. **

**Enjoy!  
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><p>And so, she spent the years of her early adulthood building her reputation, and leading Cerberus cells to victory. After the assassination of Pope Clement XVI, Miranda was transported all across the galaxy to take over failing cells, advise better off cells, and to preform cursory checks of loyalty when the Illusive Man felt like a cell was going rogue. In the thirteen years since she was first brought into Project TRAPDOOR, she was trained to be a decisive, but ruthless killer, and on the ten year anniversary of her loyalty to Cerberus, she was officially recognized as an official Operative, and was named the Illusive Man's second in command mere months later. Since then, she was sent to work as an extension of his hand, and single-handedly worked to purge rogue cells and wipe them off the map before the Alliance entered orbit. From time to time, she cut it close, but her streak was flawless, and she was rewarded greatly for it.<p>

Currently, the Illusive Man had placed the purging on hiatus, but ordered that she remain close for further instructions. Unaware what he was planning, she simply agreed, and found home on one of Cerberus' many 'civilian' stations, which basically acted as rest spots for any passing employees. There, she was shown a fitting room; large enough to house both her and Lillian, and she went off to find the mess hall in hopes of grabbing them something to drink.

When she found the small kitchen, she poured herself and Lillian two large glasses of water, and easily wound her way through the plethora of hallways that led back to their room. Balancing the glasses in her hand, she triggered the lock, and the automatic doors opened quickly. Stepping inside the fairly large room, she nodded to Lillian as she reclined on her bed and handed the glass to her.

"You're an angel," the aging biotic said, taking the glass and sipping at it happily. "Thank you."

"No problem," she said, drinking from her own glass before she settled herself before the room's terminal.

"You know, the Illusive Man won't send you a casual email when he's ready to throw you back into the action," Lily stated. "He seemed pretty cryptic from what you've told me of your last conversation with him. When he needs you, he'll call you."

"I know," Miranda assured, looking over to her mentor. "I...I'm more eager to read the emails sent to me from the social worker...about my sister."

"Ah, I see," she nodded, laying down the omni-pad she had been reading from. "Oriana, am I right? How old is she now?"

"Fifteen," the younger biotic said, running her gloved fingers through her hair. "It seems like she is growing up so fast. Sometimes, I wish I could just travel to where she is, and show up on her doorstep. The last time I held her she was a baby...and now she's almost sixteen. She's in her second year of high school now, and she excels beyond any of the other students. I receive constant reports about her, and scans of her work...she really is amazing."

"I'm sorry, Miranda," Lillian sighed. "I know how much you miss her...I wish there was something more I could do."

"As do I, but...this is for the best. She has been living a normal life, and has grown into quite the gracious and beautiful young lady. She doesn't have to live with the memories of our psychotic father, and she doesn't have to worry about the constant warring across the galaxy. All she has to worry about is having a proper childhood, and forging her future."

"You know, she couldn't have had any of that if it wasn't for you," her mentor pointed out, shooting the obviously saddened Operative a supportive smile. "You are the reason she is such a happy child. She might not know you're her guardian angel, but I bet somewhere, hidden in her memory, she remembers you."

Smiling, Miranda nodded, and sat back in her chair comfortably. "In all seriousness, she probably doesn't remember me at all, but I appreciate you saying that. It's nice to think about the possibility."

"Just be patient," Lily smiled. "Someday, you'll meet her again."

"Maybe," she agreed, focusing on the terminal and pulling up her email. There, a message waited for her, and she read one of Oriana's latest school reports. She showed Lillian, and the two marveled at how much talent was held within the small girl. Sighing, the two talked animatedly about Miranda's memories of Oriana, and where they thought she would end up in the future. Hours passed before the subject fell, and once they grew silent, Lillian shifted almost nervously.

Miranda instantly caught the movement. "What's wrong?"

"I was wondering..." Lily started, rubbing her fingers against her chin. "What ever happened to Niket?"

A look of sadness once again fell over Miranda's features, and the Operative shook her head slightly. "He recovered, and he's been sailing across the galaxy, but..."

"Has he gotten into trouble?"

"No, no. He's been doing mindless jobs to keep himself fed, clothed, and rested. He's doing fine, but he refuses to stay stationary...and I know it's because he is looking for me."

"Looking for you?" Lillian asked, tilting her head curiously. "You know, Miranda, that isn't safe...for either of you."

"I know, but I trust Niket. I know he won't go spreading my name around. It's just that, I feel like I'm running from him, and pulling him along on this huge chain because I don't stay in one place either. I'm constantly out running missions for Cerberus, and he's wandering the galaxy trying to find me. What if he gets hurt?"

"That won't be your fault, and if he hasn't gotten hurt yet, I doubt he will any time soon," her elder soothed. "I know you care about him, and I know you would love to see him again, but you are one of Cerberus' leaders. This organization needs your constant and immediate attention."

"I know," she sighed, running her hand over her face, before her omni-tool beeped loudly from her wrist. Looking up to Lillian, she stood from her seat and moved into the middle of the room before she accepted the call. After a few moments, the Illusive Man's face appeared before her, and Miranda subconsciously straightened. "Illusive Man. Have you decided my next cell?"

"Yes," the Illusive Man stated seriously. "But, this isn't a long-time cell. This is a quick mission just for you and Operative Novachek to complete, and it is one of extreme importance."

"What is the mission, sir?" Lillian asked, moving to stand by Miranda's side, so she could be brought into the Illusive Man's line of sight.

"I'm sure you both are aware of the workings of Raherix Ursivus, and his supreme goal to force the Alliance's heads in our direction. He has tried time and time again to get the galactic council on his side, and force an all out war between our two organizations. His hierarchy standing on Palaven is enough to convince the turian councilman, and I fear that the hearing they have scheduled with Raherix next week will be their final meeting before this war begins. I need you both to sabotage his ship, and make sure not only Raherix, but the entire fleet on the MSV Anixara dies," the Illusive Man finished, his eyes downcast as he sipped at his glass of scotch and followed it up with a drag from his cigarette. "You will be provided with a stealth shuttle that will keep you off the radar as you board."

"I'm sure you don't want a full frontal assault," Miranda said, simply. "If you wanted that, you would send in an army, not the two of us."

"You're correct," he assured from across the line. "A catalyst has already been prepared and is being transported to your location now. Your mission is to infiltrate the ship, make your way into engineering, and place the catalyst in the ship's metastable metallic hydrogen fuel canisters. The catalyst will be placed by timer injection, giving you both time to escape...as long as nothing goes wrong."

"And if something does go wrong?" Lillian asked, her eyes narrowing at the thought of their imminent doom.

"Miranda can handle it. Nothing will go wrong as long as the mission is in her hands."

Nodding, Miranda looked over her shoulder to Lillian, and gave her a half-hearted smile. Turning back to the call, she nodded again, and the Illusive Man's usual eerie smile broke out on his lips. "Good. The shuttle will pick you up in two hours. The Anixara's coordinates are already programed into the system, just make sure you aren't seen on the way in."

"You have nothing to worry about," Miranda assured. "I can handle it."

"You would think that the Illusive Man would have someone better to send in my place for something like this," Lily growled, as she checked her weapons and placed them back in their holsters. "I'm almost fifty and he has me running a full blown sabotage."

"There is no one I would rather do this with," Miranda assured, looking over her shoulder momentarily as she guided the shuttle closer to their target. "We're a team, and we have been for years. No one else could be qualified for this mission."

"Someone twenty years younger than me might be..."

Chuckling, Miranda set the shuttle's auto pilot, and gauged their distance from the MSV Anixara. Currently, the ship was parked in the star system's fuel depot, and Miranda found the opportunity to be perfection. "I've studied this class of turian fleetship on the way here. Luckily, turians aren't too fond of artificial or virtual intelligence...so we are safe from the ship defending itself."

"And I installed the timer on the catalyst," Lily said, holding up a small vile encompassed with wires. "Once we plant this, and start running the timer, we have ten minutes until it explodes, and need to be off this ship in five. Think we can get in and out that quickly?"

"No problem," Miranda smiled, as the shuttle urged itself closer to the Anixara's cargo bay, and automatically started to override the locks. Once open, the craft settled itself down in the back of the bay, hidden behind towers of cargo and spare ship parts. Nodding to each other, Miranda exited the craft first, and drew her pistol; prepared to quickly execute anything that threatened to step through the doors. As soon as the bay was cleared she whistled to Lillian, and she emerged with the timer tucked away in her hand and her biotics flared.

Straightening, Miranda looked down to her omni-tool and pulled up the schematics for the Anixara. Nodding forward, the two operatives pushed on without a single word. With ease, they wove their way around the ship until they reached the engine room, and Miranda stood guard at the door while Lillian located the fuel casings, and placed the timer in the proper place. The elder operative pressed the small green button, and a timer counting down from ten minutes appeared on both of their omni-tools.

With a rumble, the engines flared, and they felt the ship pull away from the fuel depot. With a smile, they nodded once again, and begin to retrace their footsteps back to the cargo bay. Peering around a corner, Miranda pushed forward with her gun extended; swinging around to make sure no hostile beings were around. Without trouble, the two operatives made their way back into the cargo bay and boarded their shuttle without alerting any of the ship's crew.

"Well, that was oddly easy," Lillian commented, looking at her omni-tool and observing that they only have eight minutes yet. "But we might want to get out of here...quick."

"I'm on it," Miranda said, revving up the shuttle, and turning to her omni-tool in an attempt to hack through the cargo bay doors. Precious seconds passed as she constantly typed commands and watched as everything she did was easily countered. "What the hell is going on? I can't hack through the lock."

"Shit," her elder stated, looking out of the shuttle's doors, and seeing the control panel on the other side of the bay. "We're going to have to do it manually."

Without waiting, Lily burst out of the shuttle, but the second her foot touched the cargo bay floor, the ship's alarms flared and blared throughout the craft. Cursing, Lillian sprinted to the control panel, and quickly went to work with hacking through the security, while Miranda followed after her, and ducked behind one of the crates. Grabbing her submachine gun, she waited, and was rewarded with a turian force charging through the doors.

Instantly, they targeted Lillian, but she was quick to protect herself with a kinetic barrier, while Miranda leaned out of her cover and shot a bullet straight through one of the turian's eyes. Jumping in surprise, the other soldiers turned to her, and a barrage of fire cut through the wood she was pressed against. A particularly heavy shot broke through her cover, and sliced into her back; causing her to curse and gasp out in pain. Shuffling to the side, she felt as the blood ran down her back, but refused to stop from deterring the fire from her mentor.

The clock on her omni-tool counted down as Miranda launched her biotics towards the soldiers, and picked off the others with her aim. Three minutes had passed, and as the second force came charging through the door, she pressed her fingers into her ear, and spoke into Lillian's ear comm.

"Come on, Lily. We don't have time to spare. We only have five minutes before this thing explodes," Miranda said quickly, discarding her submachine gun for her pistol, and leaning over the cover to unleash a barrage of bullets.

"I'm doing the best I can," Lily said from the other side of the bay, her biotics flaring up once more to protect her from the fire. "The pilot is countering my hacking attempts."

"Then cut the fucking wires," Miranda ordered, rolling to another form of cover, before she jumped up and launched her biotics towards the force of turians. "Like I said, we don't have time for this."

"Don't get stupid," her mentor snapped from the other line. "You and I both know that it's more complicated than that."

"Maybe, but-"

"Enough, I have a link up. Sync your omni-tool to it."

Obeying, Miranda quickly typed in a few commands as she felt the bullets wiz past her head. Her tool lit up, and she leaned out of cover to take down another soldier, but not before one of his friends shot through her barriers and hit her square in the shoulder.

"Shit," she screamed, cradling the injury and breathing roughly through her teeth. She pulled her hand back, and grimaced as her white uniform was slowly being stained red. Keeping the arm limp, she threw one of the turians into a stack of crates, before she picked up the gun she sat on her lap, and shot straight through another's forehead.

"I'll cover you," Lillian said, as she pressed into cover beside Miranda. "Get to the shuttle and start it up."

"What about you?" she asked, but Lillian was already standing and unleashing biotic hell against their opponents.

"I said go!" she growled, and Miranda had no other option but to comply. As soon as Lily started firing bullets across the cargo bay, the Aussie ran for it, but a stray bullet caught her leg and slowed her down even further. A trail of blood followed her, and pain threatened to engulf her, but she managed to limp into the shuttle, and revved the engines once more. The timer was closing on two minutes until detonation, and the override of the door wasn't even at 50%.

"I'm ready," Miranda grunted through the comm. "You need to get in here."

"I'm sorry, Miranda," Lillian said, a tinge of sadness darkening her words, even as she ruthlessly fought on the battlefield.

"What...what are you talking about?"

"Someone needs to stay behind to open the doors...and it's not going to be you."

"I'm not leaving you behind-"

"Yes you are," her mentor growled, her eyes darting to her tool. "Get ready. Once these doors open you need to take off and go."

"Lillian, I'm-"

"SHUT UP AND JUST GO," the words threatened to deafen her. Static exploded in her ears, and she howled in pain as she tore the mic out of her ear. Her omni-tool beeped in alert of a minute until detonation, and in front of her, she saw the cargo bay doors opening. Standing, she tried hobbling towards the door to scream for Lillian, but against her will, the shuttle door's closed, and the craft rose.

"NO!" Miranda screamed, as she slammed her fist into the shuttle doors. She returned to the consul, and did her best to override the codes, but nothing worked, and she watched as the Anixara grew smaller and smaller. A small buzzing noise caught her attention, and carefully, she placed her mic back in her ear.

"What was that?" she asked, her voice breathy and scared.

"Stay strong."

One second fell to zero. A single tear slid down her porcelain cheek, and an uncontrollable sob escaped her lips as she watched the MSV Anixara explode into a plethora of majestic colors.

Lillian Novachek, was dead.

She had never felt so numb in her entire life.

The shuttle had flown her back to the station, and without saying a word to any of the personnel, she disappeared into her room and refused to come out. She wrote her report to the Illusive Man, closed the terminal, and went to sleep without shedding a tear. She was hollow, empty, and without a single person in this world that she cared for. Her sister was gone, her friend was no where close to her, and the closet person to her mother was dead; her body burnt and torn apart by the vacuums of space.

It seemed everywhere she turned there was nothing solid she could hold on to. Everything was changing, everyone was moving. There was nothing permanent she could rely on. She took this knowledge to heart, and many of the Cerberus faculty knew something was horribly wrong when their usually up-beat and decisive Operative was reduced to nothing more than a shell of her former self.

Sighing, her omni-tool pinged, and she glanced at the email that demanded her immediate presence in the comm room. Following her orders, she entered the vacant room, and allowed the link to upload her figure into the Illusive Man's office. When the connection was secured, his face was twisted in pity, and she instantly felt sick.

"Miranda," the Illusive Man began, his voice still strong despite the sorrow he felt for her. "It is a shame that I had to read your latest report. Operative Novachek was a very valuable, and appreciated woman here. I regret seeing her go."

Crossing her arms over her chest, the Aussie kept her eyes glued onto the hologram of her boss; her face unmoving, even though every emotion possible was swirling within her like a raging typhoon. "She gave her life to save me, and to complete our mission. She should be honored."

"And she will be," he agreed, shaking his head before lighting up one of his cigarettes. "I will make all the necessary arrangements for Miss Novachek's friends and family, but I didn't call solely for that purpose. My real worries are directed towards you."

"I'm fine," she lied, "If you have a mission for me, I would appreciate if you could forward the information to me now. I find sitting on this station with nothing to do extremely counter productive."

"I don't have you lined up for a cell, Miranda, at least...not entirely. There are a few things I would like to discuss with you, but I don't want it to be over a comm line. I think it's time for you to return to my station, and take your place by my side."

"If that is what you wish, I will oblige," she stated, with a voice as blank as her face. "When will my transport arrive?"

"Within the next few hours. Have all of your belongings packed and prepared. I have given orders to the crew to bring you back here as quickly as possible."

"Whatever you would like to talk about seems quite important..."

"It is. You will understand more once you arrive."

Nodding, she moved to step off the metal circle in the floor, but before she left, the Illusive Man called out her name. She stilled, and turned to him, once again feeling nauseous from the sadness that was etched into his aging face. "I just want to tell you, that I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

"With all due respect, sir, 'sorry' will do nothing in this situation. A simple word won't bring the dead back to life, nor will it make the pain disappear. The only thing that will help is work, and progress."

"I'm glad you feel that way."


	18. Sooner or Later

**An: Sorry for the late update guys. A crazy ass storm knocked out most of West Virginia's power, so I've been SOL until...well...right now.**

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><p>"I didn't know so much was going on...how was I not aware of this man?"<p>

"You've been busy," the Illusive Man assured, sitting comfortably in his chair; his hands oddly empty. "And your vacation was in a secluded place so you could recover. No communication except to me, directly. Besides, he's just now showing up on our radar...even though he has managed to achieve a cult-like fan following by simply breathing."

"Who is he?" Miranda asked, arms crossed over her chest and eyes trained on the picture projected in the air before her.

"His name, is John Shepard," he answered, tapping at his omni-tool and projecting his file from Alliance records for Miranda. "Formally served on the Normandy SR-1 under Commander Anderson. Shortly after the recent attack on Eden Prime, and the accusation that Saren Arterius is a rogue Spectre, Anderson stepped down, and gave Shepard the job. Now he is running errands for the Council and the Alliance alike."

"Saren Arterius?" she hummed, her head tilting as she thought upon the name. "His name sounds familiar. He has run raids against Cerberus, hasn't he? He is one of the Council's favorite Spectres...why would he become rogue? And what attack on Eden Prime?"

Sighing, the Illusive Man stood, and stepped forward before he turned to look at Miranda. His face looked void, and instantly, she knew that the attack on the human colony wasn't anything close to a rebellion. Turning to his omni-tool, a video was projected before her, one that showed soldiers scampering around and attempting to dodge fire while a dominant woman led the group, and shoved the camera holder closer to the ground. A metallic cry was heard, and goosebumps formed on her skin under the tight suit she wore before the camera turned to view awestruck soldiers, and then the form of a monster she had never seen before.

"What is that?" she asked quietly, her eyes scanning the poor resolution picture of the arms of some synthetic being.

"That is what we have feared all along," her boss answered, his hand moving the movie still to the side, before he brought up more information on Prothean society. "I'm sure, being exposed to Cerberus personnel and cells, that you are more than aware of the Protheans. They were a race that came before us...studied us as we grew, and created a powerful galactic empire surrounding their planet of study."

"Earth," Miranda answered, thinking back on the archives and the data found on Mars when she was just a child.

"Yes. They were intelligent people, strong, and unable to be beaten easily. Their information was forged from a race that came before them, but even though we know little of that society, we know they shared the same fate as the Protheans."

"So, both the Protheans, and this ancient race that came before them, just...up and disappeared?" she asked, shaking her head. "How does that happen?"

"This," the Illusive Man said, pointing to the still of the synthetic. "Is how it happened."

"Reapers," she whispered, the word she had heard whispered from time to time coming to the forefront of her mind. "Synthetic machines that harvest organic life."

"Very good. The attack on Eden Prime was started by that Reaper, but the Reaper itself rarely fought. What did fight, was the geth. Since both are synthetics, conclusions can be drawn that Reapers are instilled with a code that can be used to imprint its wishes onto synthetic beings."

"And since the geth do not work individually, one of those codes would be uploaded into the thousands of geth on the same network."

"Yes, but the real fear is how far this code can go," the Illusive Man stated, before bringing up countless reports that were once Alliance property. "There has been clear, concise proof that the Reapers exist, but the Council and most of the Alliance want to bury the information, and hope that it never resurfaces. Reports of Reaper artifacts have been accepted and read over, but have been immediately flagged and stored so the information cannot be accessed."

Stepping closer to the hologram, Miranda selected one of the reports and enlarged it before her. Quickly skimming over the information, a slight pout formed on her lips, and her heart thumped wildly at the thought. "'Freighters have gone derelict in the middle of space, but distress signals haven't been sent out'," she muttered. "'Investigation of the ships have yielded ungodly half synthetic – half organic beings that were once the crew. Upon further investigation, a Reaper artifact was found below decks and quickly destroyed'. So these things...these Reapers...they can indoctrinate people?"

"Yes. The Reaper's cry is how they indoctrinate organic beings with weak minds. The cry terrifies those that hear it, and paralyzing fear will descend. Your fear allows the Reaper to control your mind...effectively making you one of the Reaper's puppets. The tactic is both genius and incredibly insidious."

"But mind control alone doesn't transform organic life into these half-synthetic creatures..." Miranda stated, motioning to the pictures taken of the horrifying half-humans. "Brainwashing can't do that."

"You are correct. As per the freighters, the artifact controlled the crew to do what the geth do in many situations," the Illusive Man explained, bringing more pictures up for her to see. "You see these metal spikes here?"

"Yes..."

"Those are what is used to transform humans into those 'husks' – fast indoctrination. The Alliance has nicknamed them Dragon's Teeth, but the way they work is simple. Organics are impaled on the spikes, and the spikes convert muscle, organs, and water parts into cybernetics, then reanimate the body with an electric current. When not in use, the spike retracts, and can very well be a trap for anyone who approaches the tripod structure. As per situations on the ship, the brainwashing could drive the crew to approach the spikes, and impale themselves so they could be transformed."

"That's horrendous," she whispered, stepping back and observing all of the information before her. "But what about Saren? What is he doing?"

"Supposedly, he's the middle man," the Illusive Man answered. "He, and one Matriarch Benezia are following the Reaper's orders and leading the geth forces in a war against organics. What puzzles me, though, is that there is only one Reaper that has made an appearance in this galaxy."

"This Reaper...the one deemed 'Sovereign', his name means a monarch, a singular ruler. He is only the beginning of what is going to come," Miranda hypothesized, her stomach churning at the thought. "He's here for something...to start this war, and see how we will react to an all out Reaper invasion."

"Exactly," her boss nodded. "And I wonder if Shepard's approach is really the best. Show too much weakness, and Sovereign won't think twice before leading the geth in a march to destroy organic life. Show too much strength, and I fear that some day soon we will be overrun with thousands of Reapers. Either way, we're headed for doomsday."

"Surely we can do something," she insisted, shaking her head and refusing to take the situation lying down. "We have some of the best tech experts and scientists in the galaxy, as well as an unmatched arsenal of weapons. Nothing, not even Reapers are indestructible."

"You would be correct, but there is one key thing we need to have if we want to wage war with these monsters," the Illusive Man told her, putting the filter of a cigarette into his mouth and using a lighter to set it aflame. "Morale."

Turning back to the number of projections floating before them, she waved her hand in the air, and brought forth the picture of Shepard once again. Looking into the light blue eyes that stared back at her, she nodded, and spoke to her boss over her shoulder. "Do you think one man can rally an entire galaxy for war?"

"As crazy as the idea may seem, yes, I do. Take a look at his crew."

Quirking her eyebrow quizzically, she retrieved the information of the Normandy's crew, and projected their profiles in front of her. Eyes widening slightly, she crossed her arms over her chest, and chuckled softly. "I'm impressed," Miranda whispered. "I've never seen such a diverse squad."

"Commander Shepard has single-handedly been able to forge a crew of humans, krogan, turians, and asari. He has done so in only a few days, and all of these people fight by his side with undying loyalty," the Illusive Man explained. "People would follow him into hell itself, and that attitude will only solidify if, and when he wins this fight with Saren. He's also a beacon of hope for the human race, considering he is the first human Spectre."

"But he is faithful to the Alliance," she pointed out, directing her bosses attention to the list of missions he participated in, and completed for Alliance Military. "Recruiting him will be a difficult task."

"I have faith in you, Miranda," the Illusive Man answered. "But you don't need to do anything right this second. Let him fight. Let him prove himself against an actual Reaper, and then we'll make our move on him. Until then, watch, and gather as much information about him as you can."

"Yes, sir," Miranda said as a final acceptance of her mission. "I'll start immediately."

Waving her omni-tool over the projections, the information disappeared to the view of the churning sun that resided right outside the Illusive Man's window. Checking to make sure the data had downloaded properly, she turned on her heel, and moved towards the exit that led into the rest of the station. Walking past the Illusive Man's chair, his strong hand reached out and circled around her wrist; effectively pulling a gasp from her lips and stopping her in her tracks. Looking down at him, the Illusive Man refused to look at her, and simply stared forward at the dying star.

"Your part in this is crucial Miranda. I can't afford mistakes, or slip ups. We must get Shepard on our side, one way or the other, and we must turn the tides of this battle in Cerberus' favor. I know you will do everything in your power to make this so, but just know, that if you fail...well..."

"I won't," she interrupted, eyes narrowing at the blatant threat on her life. "Trust me. As long as I am given my resources, Shepard will serve under the Cerberus flag."

"When the time comes, you will have everything you need," the Illusive Man assured, releasing her wrist and letting his hand hang off the arm rest of his chair. "Thank you, Miranda. It was a pleasure speaking with you."

Huffing, she nodded and made her way towards the high security doors that eventually allowed her to exit into the bright, silver hallways. Shaking her head, she rubbed at her wrist and winced as she felt the inkling of bruises forming under her suit. Making her way to her room, she waved her hand over her terminal, and waited until the downloads started for her to remove her omni-tool clip, as well as her uniform.

Moving about her room in only her bra and underwear, she rubbed at her tense shoulders and ran her fingers through her silky hair. A soft beep rang from her terminal, and she looked over to see the profile of John Shepard; his picture staring right at her. Straightening, she watched; her eyes roving over his still youthful face before her hands fell and her eyes narrowed at the challenge.

Such a hard road he had traveled, watching his crew be destroyed by a thresher maw before he was stationed on a small colony that was attacked by slavers. He survived the thresher maw, and beat off the batarians, only to be pulled into an ongoing fight with rogue Spectres, rabid husks, and terrifying, towering Reapers. No doubt he was lonely, attempting to fight off his worries as well as the monsters that wanted his flesh. Perhaps he would find solace with one of the women on his ship, either with the innocent asari, or the confident soldier girl that always loudly spoke her mind, but she knew when the time came, neither could compare to her.

She was perfection, after all, and she would manipulate the battlefield like a puppet master until it was Cerberus' name that hung in infamy.

"Go ahead and play hero, Shepard," she whispered, a smirk pulling at her lips. "I'll come for you sooner or later."


	19. The Beginning

**An: Okay, so doing a whole bunch of chapters about Jacob's involvement with Cerberus was going to be my original plan, but I found it super hard since all I had was a wiki summary of Mass Effect Galaxy, and no sort of gameplay available on the interwebs. So therefore, I just fast forwarded a little and explained his back story in this.**

**Enjoy.  
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**The Project is on the Horizon!  
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><p>A soft groan left her lips as she slowly floated into consciousness. Her eyes screwed shut, and she attempted to move, but was pinned down by a dark, muscular arm. Opening her eyes, she looked over her shoulder and found Cerberus' newest 'recruit' fast asleep. Smirking, she removed his arm from her and stood, stretching out her muscles and shivering when the cold air on the Arcturian Jade touched her bare skin.<p>

It had been months since Shepard ended the war against Saren, and miraculously led a force strong enough to destroy Sovereign before the Reaper had the ability to activate the Citadel's Mass Relay capabilities and open the gateway to Dark Space. For now, the imminent threat of an all out Reaper invasion had faded, even though she, and Cerberus as a whole knew that the fight was far from over. The Alliance though, remained blind as usual; caring only about their friendship with the Council, which had been solidified thanks to Shepard. The original Council had been saved, even though the turian fleet suffered heavy casualties, and it seemed that everyone was determined to return back to normalcy.

Normal...as if such a thing existed in this world. Here she was, a thirty three year-old woman, who a few weeks ago was pouring over news feeds and stolen data from the Alliance in her attempt to track Shepard. As far as she knew, the Alliance decided that as a gift to the valiant hero, they would use Shepard for pointless patrols that were only effective in wasting time and money. The geth where never the problem. It was Sovereign, it was his indoctrination; not the race as a whole, yet Shepard and his crew were off scanning every nook and cranny of the galaxy searching for the last bits of geth that remained under the Reaper's hold. They weren't going to find any. The source of the infection was destroyed during the Battle for the Citadel. Lingerings of Sovereign didn't exist...at least...not in the geth.

So therefore, she was forced to wait; to wait and see when the opportune time to strike would arise. In that time, the Illusive Man called on her for another mission; a trivial clean-up procedure, and an eventual recruitment. Nearing the window that looked out into space, she glanced over her shoulder to view the soldier that slept in the bed they had shared for the past few days. He was ungodly attractive, she would give him that, and he had a sense of duty about him that all soldiers seemed to share, but he, he understood what it was like to be suffocated in Alliance red tape. He didn't want to follow protocol, he wanted to fight, and eliminate hostile situations as quickly as possible. He didn't want to wait for permission to protect innocent people, he wanted to follow his instincts, and be the savior. It was a flawed idea, and she knew that it killed him when he faced situations where he just couldn't save everyone, but he was a sweet man, and one who was more than willing to wear the Cerberus logo.

Which was why she felt guilty when he looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Given, she probably was, but their sex was part of her plan, and she cared little about seducing the man now that he agreed to work for the Illusive Man. She had been given orders before even meeting the man, and she followed them to a T. She was to be his informant, to guide him in the right direction so he could uncover the assassination conspiracy on Jath'Amon, the batarian Ambassador. Little did she know, her leads led them both to the knowledge that the Ambassador was the leader of the batarian terrorists that were supposed to be his killers, and that Jath'Amon's talks of peace were the perfect cover for him to release a deadly engineered virus that would kill the Council.

She and Jacob saved the Council, and the irony of it all made her chuckle.

With warring races aside, her attention was brought back to her final order from the Illusive Man. If Jacob Taylor proved to be a resource they could use, then she was obligated to recruit him by any means necessary. Once he returned to his vacation on the Arcturian Jade, she followed him, and soothed his tired mind with wine and pleasure. He, being no stupid man, didn't deny her when she stood in front of him and pulled the zipper of her uniform to her belly button, and she knew she had him in the palm of her hand when he responded to her teasing by tearing his shirt over his head and kissing her.

But while he lavished her body and spoke sweet nothings in her ear, she wasn't destined to be his lover forever. Even though he touched her and looked at her like he never wanted to let her go, being with him was solely part of her job, and the feelings he had weren't reciprocated. She felt odd, being so cold towards a perfectly good man, but she couldn't pretend and lead him on, nor did she have the time to juggle a romantic relationship and her job. Now that Jath'Amon was out of the way, she had one man to focus on, and one man only.

Commander John Shepard.

She was waiting, waiting for that call from the Illusive Man that would order her back to his station. He told her he would watch Shepard while she dealt with Jath'Amon and that he would call on her if she was needed. She was the head of his recruitment mission, the sole person responsible for tearing him away from the Alliance's clutches. She had to get back to work soon, or she would miss her chance.

She jumped when she felt his hand settle on her waist, and she smirked when Jacob pressed his chest against her back. His lips settled against her shoulder, and his fingers teased her flat stomach; his dark skin such a contrast to her own pale flesh. "You're awake," she mewled softly, dancing her fingers across his hands. "You slept well?"

"Very," he assured, moving his lips to the curve of her neck. "Though, I would have preferred to wake up with you in my arms."

"I'm sorry," she pouted, turning in his arms and resting her hands against his chest. "But I can't lie around once I wake up. It's a force of habit."

"I understand," Jacob chuckled, shaking his head and tightening the hold he had on her. "You're a busy woman. There isn't time to rest."

"Not in my position," Miranda assured, smiling and softly pressing her lips against his chin. Honestly, she couldn't tell herself she didn't like this, spending her mornings in the arms of a man who cared about her, but with every passing moment she grew more and more antsy. She had to work, she had to move, she had to make progress. If Jacob had his way, they would never leave this room. The days of his life would be idle, and even though that seemed like a pleasing alternative to some, it looked like torture to her.

As if on cue, a soft ringing echoed through the room. She glanced over, and on top of her discarded uniform, her omni-tool clip flashed orange. She attempted to move away from Jacob, but he was quick to grab her hand and try and keep her from the call. "Don't answer it," he pleaded, circling her in his embrace and pressing his lips to hers. "You're on vacation."

She chuckled, even though under the surface she was growing annoyed, and pulled her mouth away from his. "I can't ignore it," she insisted, shrugging her shoulder and moving towards the clip. He sighed and shook his head, settling his hands on his hips before he turned back towards the bed and searched for the shorts he had been wearing the day before. Picking up the clip, she slipped it onto her wrist, and accepted the Illusive Man's call.

"Miranda, I'm sorry to interrupt your vacation," the Illusive Man began, the hologram of his face projected into the air above her forearm. "But I needed to speak to you."

"I understand, sir," she responded, knowing that he was only apologizing to give Jacob the slip. "What do you need?"

"It seems a situation has arisen," he explained, tones of darkness hanging on his words. "I hate to call you back so soon, but I need you here. What I have uncovered...it's important."

Blue eyes widening, Miranda noticed the subtle hint of urgency in his voice and nodded her head. "I'll find my way there as quickly as possible."

"There is a transport station not far from the Arcturian Jade's current location. Wait there, and I will send a shuttle for you. A separate shuttle will be sent for Mr. Taylor to take him to our processing center, where he will be given both physical and mental examinations. The shuttle will be waiting for you in one hour. Get to the station as quickly as you can."

"Yes, sir," Miranda agreed, before she disconnected the call and bent over to grab her clothes. Slipping on her skin tight uniform with ease, she stepped into her boots and zipped them to her thighs before she ran her fingers through her hair and turned around to see Jacob dressing himself. His eyes where downcast and his hand movements slow; a tight frown pulling at the corner of his lips. "Are you alright?"

Huffing, his hands tightened around the shirt he held in his hand and he shook his head, looking up at the gorgeous Australian who had stolen his heart. "The Illusive Man...things sounded...well they didn't sound good. You're going to be meeting him, and I'll be somewhere totally different getting a physical. No doubt you'll probably be briefed with a mission, and you'll be transported to the other side of the galaxy. I'll probably never see you again."

"I doubt I will be going far, but you have to understand that this organization is large, and stretched to all reaches of the galaxy. Paths are rarely crossed twice...and there isn't anything you or myself can do to change that," she explained, a sense of awkwardness falling over her as she comforted the fellow biotic. "I'm sorry you're so upset, but that's just how things are. I have to go. I need to talk to the Captain and tell him that we need taken to the transport station as quickly as possible."

"Miranda," Jacob called, looking up at her and wishing that his tongue would form the perfect words that would make her stay. "I just...never mind."

Shrugging her shoulder, she gave him a reassuring smile before she disappeared and left him alone in the room that suddenly felt way too big. Sighing, he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his rifle. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he checked every part of the gun with meticulous accuracy. It was the only thing he could do anymore that would calm him, no matter what situation he was in.

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><p>"I could tell you were urgent that I return," Miranda said as she was admitted into the Illusive Man's office and strode to his side. "What has happened? Is Shepard in trouble?"<p>

"Yes, and no," the Illusive Man explained, crossing his legs and sucking at his cigarette. "I have been following him...keeping my eyes on him, and I have discovered something both interesting and terrifying in the system he is patrolling now."

"Please don't tell me it's another Reaper," she sighed, her eyes closing and her fingers coming to pinch at the bridge of her nose.

"It's not," he assured, typing commands that brought up pictures of a large ship that looked like the combination of some sort of hive and lots of metal. It was huge, sizable to the point where it could have been a Reaper, and contained a powerful cannon at the very front that could tear through any ship as if it was a slab of hot butter. "It seems we've been graced with someone's presence."

"I've never seen a ship of that build, or of that size before," Miranda said, a feeling of dread settling deep in her stomach. "Who does it belong to, or...what does it belong to?"

"Even I don't know that answer," the Illusive Man told her. "Which is why I find this terrifying. The ship's architecture is in no way familiar to me, and no matter how hard I searched, I couldn't find anything on the ship itself, or whatever might be flying it from the inside. All I know is that that ship is in the same system Shepard is in now, and I don't like that."

"That ship is huge. If it were to fire at the Normandy, they wouldn't stand a chance. Shepard is only one man. If we lose him humanity might well follow."

"Then see to it that we don't lose him," he said, tapping his cigarette into the ash tray built into the arm of his chair and releasing the final puffs of smoke that hung in his lungs. He looked up at her and she shivered in response to his shining blue eyes digging deep into her skin. She knew the look was a warning and she sighed, nodding once before she looked into the shadows over his shoulder.

"I'll do everything and anything to save and recruit Shepard, sir," she promised, standing tall and looking down at him with fearsome blue eyes of her own. "Even if I have to preform miracles."

Looking up at her, he steepled his fingers under his chin and gave her a barely there smile. He nodded, knowing she would do just that if the situation called for it, and wove his hand through the air, dismissing her to her quarters. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched her leave, and sighed as he pushed himself out of his chair and walked forward until he was standing close enough to the window that he could feel the heat from the dying star.

Placing his hands behind his back, he stood and watched as the fire and lava churned together to create magnificent colors. Within the star, he saw his prodigy and the famed Commander Shepard. Of the two, he envisioned Miranda the clearest, and could picture her serving by his side until it was his time to hand the organization over to her. Even though he had to do some questionable things to ensure his control over her would remain strong, he knew that he acted as that father figure she wished she had, and therefore, his word meant more to her than any other.

And Shepard, the fact that he could envision him at all was good. He pictured the Commander with the Cerberus emblem displayed proudly on his chest and his brows furrowed as he stormed the Reapers and took them down one by one. Frowning slightly, he imagined the Reaper War, and knew that the pictures he formed would come no where close to the true power harnessed within the Reapers. Thinking back to Miranda, he stroked his chin and narrowed his eyes in thought.

"_Though she is no Reaper, she is strong. I've tugged all the right strings to make her my puppet, which is remarkable considering her tough head and confident disposition,"_ he thought silently, scratching at his cheek._ "No doubt with all the past horror Shepard had to experience, he too could be manipulated and prodded in the right direction. Given, organics are a lot easier to control than synthetics, as history has shown, but even they can be controlled. The Reapers are just synthetics with big guns...whose to say indoctrination can't be turned against them? Whose to say I can't control the Reapers? Whose to say I can't create a totally perfect world with them at my fingertips?"_

Laughing, he looked over his shoulder and called for his assistant. "Mindy, bring me everything you can find on the Reapers, and Reaper indoctrination."


	20. The Lazarus Project: Part One

**An: I apologize for updating this story so late in the day, but I didn't wake up until around 6, and I still have to revise this chapter. XD Yay for screwed up sleep schedules. Now enjoy!**

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><p>Leaning her elbows onto the desk in her office, her gloved hands ran over her face and she sighed in an attempt to relieve the tension in her shoulders. She glanced to the side, her eyes falling on her small cot, and she huffed when she knew there wasn't time for her to sleep. She had been awake for two days straight anyway preparing for Shepard's arrival, and she knew the second he was rolled into the Lazarus Station, her and her scientists would have to start moving.<p>

It had been weeks since the Illusive Man warned her about the strange ship inhabiting the same system Shepard was passing through, and she sighed as she silently thought that his worries were well placed. After Cerberus had been made aware of the ship, the Normandy SR-1 flew in range and sustained a major attack. The ship was entirely split in half, most of the crew was killed, and Shepard risked his life to save the life of his pilot. He had been propelled into space, and though he remained intact from the attack, his oxygen lines and carbon dioxide scrubbers had failed; leaving him to suffocate. On top of that, his dead body had the pleasure of reentering the atmosphere of an icy planet named Alchera.

She grimaced as she imagined the body that would be brought to her, his skin burned and black, his limbs distorted and broken, and his entire body frozen in one position. It would be hell laying him out straight, and it would be even worse getting over the scent of fresh decomposition that would flood her labs from his body thawing out. No doubt some of her scientists would end up squeamish, and the smell of vomit would mingle with Shepard's odor.

"Operative Lawson," the voice echoing through her office snapped her out of her reverie, and she looked up at the speaker from which the sound came. "Liara T'Soni has arrived."

"Does she have him?" Miranda asked, massaging her neck in preparation.

"Yes. She and a drell by the name of Feron have secured Commander Shepard's body. He is being wheeled in now."

"Good," she sighed, standing from her seat and heading for the door. "Tell the techs to place him in the cooler until I'm done talking with Dr. T'Soni. I don't want his body thawing just yet."

"Yes, Miss Lawson," the voice responded, giving her the final permission to leave her office and make her way down the silvery halls embellished with the Cerberus logo that every station had. Through the windows, she could see scientists speaking in hushed tones, arranging tools, and looking both excited and grim. They were just as strung out as she was awaiting the Commander, and she knew that most of them didn't think it was possible to bring the dead back to life.

Walking through the doors that led to the part of the station that held the few shuttles that might be needed to escape, she caught sight of the asari doctor and her drell friend. Mechs neared, and walked with the two techs that were wheeling a gurney covered in an insulated cover designed to keep Shepard's body in the state that it was found on Alchera. Letting them pass, they ran for the main lab, and she turned back to see the asari and drell standing side by side, both with apprehensive features.

"Operative Lawson," it was Liara who spoke first, the usually quiet and shy asari clearly hardened by the death of her friend. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Miranda answered, extending her hand and shaking Liara's. "I wasn't aware that you were going to arrive with guests other than Shepard."

"This is Feron," she introduced. "He is a friend I made while recovering Shepard's body. Apparently, Cerberus isn't the only ones who want to get their hands on him."

Raising an eyebrow quizzically, the Operative settled back into her hip and crossed her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes, thinking that possibly the asari was lying to her, but when Liara's face didn't change from it's relatively apathetic appearance, she knew she was telling the truth. Turning her eyes onto Feron, she immediately noticed that the drell felt nervous in the Cerberus station, and she huffed quietly. "Please, inform me who this other person is. I have to ensure that this station is protected, and that my work will commence without interruption. One slip up could cost Shepard his life for good."

"The Shadow Broker," Feron answered, his green hands twitching nervously at his side. "I...I was sent by the Shadow Broker to commandeer Shepard's body. He didn't tell me what for, but you never ask The Shadow Broker for his motives. I ran into Liara on Alchera, and she explained that Cerberus had plans to bring him back to life. I...I know what it will cost me to defy his orders, but, I know he won't do any good for the Commander."

"That is very brave of you," Miranda told the drell. "And I'm glad you aren't as blind as some might have been. I appreciate you telling me this. I will ask the Illusive Man for a tighter encryption on all of our digital files, as well as a stronger security force here. As long as I'm the head of this cell, nothing will go wrong."

"I'm trusting you, Miranda," Liara said, her voice hardening and her eyes blazing as she took a single step forward. "I don't trust Cerberus and I never will, but I'm placing my trust in you. I don't expect you to keep me informed. If information about this cell got out it could be detrimental, but you better not fail. You better bring him back to me...to us."

Feeling a sense of respect for the asari, she tilted her head and could see underlying feelings for the Commander that either weren't acted upon, or never discussed. Straightening her posture, Miranda looked at Liara and nodded her head once. "I have unlimited resources at my disposal and a team of the most intelligent scientists this galaxy can offer. Soon, I will have the force of an army guarding this station. I understand the gravity of this situation and I know what the prices will be if I fail. So therefore, I won't. It will take time, but I won't fail."

"Good," the asari responded, glancing over to Feron who gently settled his hand on her shoulder. "With that we will leave. You need to get to work as soon as possible, I'm sure."

"Yes, I do. Thank you, for bringing him here, and I hope you two will remain safe wherever you end up going."

"Thank you," Feron piped up, directing Liara towards the shuttle that was waiting for them. "Good luck, Operative Lawson."

"I don't need luck," she muttered under her breath as she waited until the two were settled in the shuttle and the doors closed. Turning on her heel, she walked towards the main lab, and sent a quick email to the Illusive Man requesting thicker security and an even stronger encryption for all of their files. She knew the Shadow Broker was a master at hacking and compiling secrets otherwise buried to the world, and she didn't want to take the chance of having a virus uploaded into their systems that would disrupt all forms of life support Shepard was on.

Pushing through the doors of the lab, she looked around and nodded when she counted that all of her scientists were present. One of the techs handed her a lab coat, and she slipped it over her shoulders; tying her hair back to keep it from disrupting her concentration. "Alright," she began, noticing how all of her people's eyes immediately snapped to her face. "We aren't going to start trying to rebuild him immediately. We need to test a few things first and make sure that the cybernetics will properly rebuild every muscle, organ, and tissue perfectly. We can't fuck this up, and I know you all know that."

Her cybernetics official Dr. Pyles, a relatively muscular man with golden hair and shimmering green eyes, looked to her and crossed his arms over his chest. "Miss Lawson, if I may offer my suggestion. We extract as much DNA as possible, from every source of the body, in multiple places, as soon as the body has thawed. We can transfer the cells over to Dr. Savar," he said, motioning to a the salarian who stood at his side. "He can extract the DNA, map it accordingly, and we can start replicating the DNA with help from the cybernetics."

"Yes," she agreed. "That will work to ensure that the cybernetics themselves will work, but we can't create organs and then...install them into his body. Dr. Savar, is their any way you can make a sort of shot, with the essential biological components needed to start DNA replication?"

"In my sleep," the salarian promised, a smile pulling at his lips. "Forcing DNA replication and repair is very easy once I have mapped and transcribed the DNA. The cybernetics will help speed the process and either repair, or dispose of the cells that are damaged."

"What about errors?" Miranda asked. "Naturally, DNA replication can produce errors, and we can't have stray mutations."

"DNA polymerase is the enzyme responsible for matching nucleotides to RNA that creates new DNA. After a new molecule is created, the polymerase checks its work, and will correct any mismatched nucleotides before the replication process is finished. Given, with cybernetics, the chance of genetic mutation is higher since the process is rushed, but that can easily be alleviated with the introduction of more polymerases."

"Good," she said, turning her head to the bald man standing beside her. "Wilson, do you agree with the process."

"I do," the Chief Medical Officer agreed. "Dr. Savar's plan is sound, and I know that he will come through. I, of course, will oversee every experiment both with the cybernetics and DNA replication and repair."

Nodding, Miranda motioned for Wilson to follow her, and they moved towards the freezer. "So our plan is to take Shepard out, let him warm to the point where we will be able to extract DNA, extract as quickly and efficiently as possible, and then move his body into stasis. He can't start decomposing."

"Hopefully he hasn't suffered any sort of frost bite," Savar said. "It will be hard to extract DNA from frost bitten tissue."

"Hard, but not impossible," Miranda reminded him, opening the freezer and pushing Shepard's body into the lab with Wilson's help. Looking to each other, they both bit their tongues and released the insulated cover over his body; the immediate stench of death filling the room.

The many techs that lingered around turned away from the body, and Miranda fought the urge to gag and throw up everything she had eaten that morning. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, she heard one of the techs run for the bathroom; the sound of retching soon following. Looking to Wilson, he too looked pale, but they both shook it off and carefully lifted Shepard's beaten and battered body off the gurney and onto the lab table.

She sighed as she looked down at the body, her stomach churning and acid rising into the back of her throat. No part of his skin looked like human flesh. It was all charred, burnt, and at some places, hanging from his limbs. Bones could be seen protruding from multiple places on his body, and she closed her eyes when she caught sight of his musculature strung down the length of his arm. Groaning, she directed her attention to his face and sighed when she saw the damage there. No doubt the helmet had fallen off when he had hit Alchera, and his skull was shattered in many places; his face distorted and his bones poking up to make his face look like nothing more than a collage of burnt skin.

"You couldn't even be able to tell who this is," Wilson muttered, reaching out and brushing his gloved finger over the metal of his armor that was embedded into his chest. "The only thing that identifies him is the N7 armor, and the fact that the Normandy was crashed right beside him."

"There's no time to reminisce, Wilson," Miranda scolded lightly, the hardness of her voice gone due to her nausea. "We need to start extracting DNA as quickly as possible."

Glancing over at her, he frowned, and immediately pulled his hand back. Clearing his throat he looked up to the scientists and techs standing around. Their eyes were glued to the body, and everyone, even the salarian looked green. "You heard her," Wilson snapped. "Stop standing around like a bunch of dazed idiots, we need to get to work."

* * *

><p>A handful of days passed before she finally got confirmation from the Illusive Man that he would agree to thicker security and assured that the team would arrive later that day. Most of her time had been spent hovering over Shepard's body; overseeing all DNA extractions that occurred between his time in stasis. She knew she smelled like death, and no matter how many times she almost scrubbed her skin raw, the overwhelming stench would not escape from her nose, or the back of her throat.<p>

She ran her fingers through her hair as she walked through the halls, stress already welling as she constantly thought back on the news from Wilson that the cybernetic tests could take months to ensure they would work. She isn't a woman who can just sit around and wait for results, she needed them, and she needed them quickly.

Glancing into the labs she passed, she viewed Pyles and Savar working side by side; bent over microscopes and messing with large technology she had been familiar with since she was a teenager. Being a creation of genetic perfection, she was pushed to snoop through her father's things, and learn about how she was created. She constantly studied the sciences of DNA manipulation, as well as the science of cybernetics; and she knew that if she shadowed the two scientists long enough, she could conduct her own experiments and compare her results with that of Savar and Pyles. It would probably kill her to be doing the work of two specialists, but she was too impatient.

"Operative Lawson," the voice rang in her ear comm, and she sighed softly in thanks.

"Yes?" she answered.

"Your security has just arrived. A man by the name of...Jacob Taylor is here. He wants to speak to you."

Growling, she shook her head and reluctantly pressed her fingers back to her ear to transmit her voice to her security guard. "Show them where to go...I'll meet Jacob in the transport bay."

"Yes, Operative Lawson," the man responded, the line immediately going dead.

Turning on her heel, her footfalls where sharp and she basically marched to the shuttle bay. Her fingers clenched around the omni-pad she held in her hand and her eyes narrowed; her cool exterior rising. Pushing through the doors, she approached the muscular, and newly appointed Operative, with an air of superiority and an icy stare. "Hello, Jacob. Pleasure to see you again."

"Ouch," Jacob muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the Aussie. "I've just been standing here. Did I do something wrong?"

"Not yet," she retaliated, resting one hand on her hip. "Jacob, I don't have time for idle chatter. I have work to do."

"This isn't idle chatter," he argued, stepping closer to her. "We need to talk about us."

"We don't need to talk about anything except your job on this station," Miranda spat, fighting the overwhelming need to roll her eyes. "I assume since you have been named an Operative you are going to be the head of security on this station. Your job is to keep my scientists and Shepard safe, not stand here and try and recite some sort of romantic poetry that will push me into your arms."

"I don't understand you," Jacob growled, his own anger flaring. "What the hell happened? Everything was so nice and happy back on the Jade. We spent days in paradise, then you get one call from the Illusive Man and you turn into this...this cold bitch."

Laughing darkly, Miranda's hand clenched as her biotics started to flare. "I would be careful how you speak to your superiors."

"I'm not speaking to you as a superior, I'm speaking to you as your lover," he responded, backing down only slightly. "Was everything I imagined just a lie? All the feelings I felt from you, where they really nothing?"

"Jacob, the blunt aspect is that I was ordered to recruit you by any means necessary. You are a man, and seduction was the easiest way. Clearly it worked, as you are here now, and since you are, you will follow my rules. Your cabin is over in A Wing, I want constant reports about the station's security and I want absolutely no fuck ups. Am I understood?"

"Yeah," he growled, stepping away from her. "Perfectly,_ Operative_ Lawson."

"Good," she smiled, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "Now get to work, and try not to waste any more of my time."

With that she turned and walked through the doors, heading for D wing and the comfort of her labs. She huffed and shook her head, clenching the omni-pad in her hand and trying to think of anything other than Jacob's voice echoing in her head. "If you think I'm a cold bitch now, Jacob Taylor," she hissed to herself. "Just wait and see. If anyone fucks with me, Shepard, or this cell, they'll get to see just how much of a bitch I can be."


	21. Update

I wanna say that I'm sorry for not updating last weekend, but I regret to inform you all that I might not be updating as steadily as I used to.

As you can tell by the calendar, it is the end of July, meaning my summer has been spent, and I am now to spend my days under the sun, on a football field, with my trumpet. Yes, day three of band camp is rolling in, and I focus all of my energy into band. Even if I get hours of sleep at night, I'll still come home after our first practice and sleep...while on top of that, I'm still working as well. I try and write while I'm at work, but don't expect much until I start getting into the rhythm of things (punny, I know). I'm not giving up on this story by a LONG shot, I'm just asking for some slack.

I love you all, and thank you so much for following this story so closely.


	22. The Lazarus Project: Part Two

**An: So late last night, the time, and my muse finally let me write some. Though this isn't much (and I'm not sure it's entirely great) it is still something. I apologize for taking so long to update this, and I'm sorry that I can't give you guys a definitive date when the next chapter will be up. I'm trying my best to coax my muse as well as dealing with band and school coming up. I'm trying, but like I've stated, I'm not giving up this story (or my Linzin one for that matter) any time soon.**

**I have way too many Miranda feels to just stop this.  
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><p>Once again, as the days passed Miranda found herself sitting at her desk; fingers steepled before her face and her eyes trained intently on the information sent to her from Pyles and Savar. Both had been working tirelessly for the past handful of months to test every angle of biological replication to make sure that Shepard's resurrection would be sound, and they've managed to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time, but nonetheless she was growing impatient, and had actually taken to conducting her own experiments to compare with Pyles and Savar so the two didn't have to repeat the procedure.<p>

Her eyes closed, and a barely discernible headache throbbed behind her eyes. She was exhausted, but she knew she had no time to rest. The clock was ticking, no real progress had been made on Shepard himself, and the Illusive Man was growing antsy. With the threat of an imminent reaper attack, as well as these unknown beings that had taken out the first Normandy sailing through the cosmos, her boss grew less and less forgiving when she returned to him with the same damn excuse.

"_We're conducting experiments now, but our progress is sound. We are doing the best we can, as quick as we can."_

"_It's not quick enough, Miranda. Hurry up the progress. You know we don't have this kind of time to make sure that every single thing will work completely perfect!"_

She sighed and pushed up from her desk as staring at the screen became too much for her head. She rolled her sore shoulders and rubbed at her tired eyes; the light shade of blue in her irises long faded to a dull gray. Knowing that everyone else would be resting or looking over their findings in their quarters, she stepped away from her workspace and waved her hand over the lock; opening the doors to the barely-lit, unoccupied hallways.

* * *

><p>And there, she was alone. She was surrounded by silence, and only heard the sound of her heels clacking as she walked deeper and deeper into the Lazarus Station. There were no leering gazes from Jacob, no constant questions from her scientists, and no arguments from Wilson and his demand for more time to experiment. There was no chaos, no problems, and virtually, no worries.<p>

All there was, was silence.

Until she heard the sound of running machinery and looked up to find that she had walked herself to the lab that Shepard was contained in. Bypassing security and taking a step inside, she glanced around the sterile room for a minute to make sure that all equipment was in order. After careful examination that only seemed to further her headache, she deemed the care of their tools satisfactory and moved through the door that led to the stasis viewing area.

Usually a guard was constantly posted here, staring at Shepard's deformed and decomposed face for hours – most likely hoping that the scientists hurried their efforts so he wasn't constantly being watched by a corpse, but tonight was different. The monitors were on, data was being complied, but the chair at the desk was empty, and Shepard remained where he always was; hanging in a fluid that kept his body from deteriorating completely. Her stomach churned slightly at the sight of his distorted face, but it passed as quick as it came. She was more than used to seeing him like this, and there was only one direction she could go at this point.

The direction that led to his recreation, his resurrection, his return to the living world.

She chuckled at the notion as she took her seat at the desk and leaned back with her arms over her chest. She had never thought that her Cerberus career would include bringing a dead man back to life. Hell, she didn't think that would ever be possible, even with the advances of science and medicine. Naturally, she accepted death as the natural order of things. People lived, and people died. But, John Shepard wasn't just 'people'. No, even she could admit that he was a god among men.

"Oh but how far you have fallen," she muttered to the corpse as she stood and instinctively reached out to touch the glass that separated the viewing area from the stasis chamber. "So strong and valiant before, now you are dead. You are nothing but a shell of what you used to be, yet I am tasked with making you whole again. A man who, had you met me anywhere before this point, would have shot me on sight because of the insignia on my chest. I worry about that. When you wake up, how will you react to being in Cerberus' hands? Most likely, it won't be good."

"But, that is only the superficial side of you," she began again, knowing full well that the man she was speaking to couldn't hear her. "The soldier that the alliance has crafted you to be. Your loyalty is something to be earned, and it is a prize in of itself, but are you really the person they make you out to be? This untouchable, ruthless killer, who will stop at nothing to save the world and cares little for the life that has been lost...or does it hurt you? Do you lie awake at night, drenched in cold sweat because you can't stop the nightmares? Do you reach over to the other side of your empty bed and crave someone warm to be there? Was someone there before all of this happened? Will she be there when you awake?"

"Some things," she huffed, glancing to the monitor that was connected to the stasis module. "Some things just aren't in your file. I know your history, your personal relationships, every move you made in your fight against Saren, Sovereign, and the Geth...but the personal impact it had is blank. Who will you be when you wake up? That ruthless renegade, or the sensitive paragon who will take far too many things to heart? Will I have to stop you from killing, or will you have to stop me? Will you be smart enough to listen to what I have to say anyway?"

Miranda smirked, but the smile fell quickly as she rubbed at her aching temples. Her shoulders slouched under the pressure of her questions and she groaned as the world around her seemed to spin ever so slightly. Her hand moved to clutch at her stomach as it once again churned, but craved a decent meal just as much as it wanted to dispel the lack of food that was already in her stomach. She sighed, and shook away the sickness she felt to return her attention to the man hanging before her; majestic even though he looked absolutely repulsive.

"Well," she began, once again pushing to her feet. "I suppose these are all things I will have to learn when I fix you, but the sooner I learn them, the better. Whether you trust me or not...whether you trust Cerberus or not, you have a lot on your plate. But, I'm sure you're well aware of that fact."

With that, she nodded to the unresponsive body and waved her hand over the door that led out into the main laboratory. As they slid open, she jumped and reached her hand for the gun at her hip when she came face to face with Wilson. Knowing that she was there, he remained unfazed and stared at her through cold eyes. "What are you doing back here? Hopefully not tampering with the equipment."

"I taught you how to use that equipment," Miranda quipped back, her fingers immediately going to the bridge of her nose. She and Wilson had been arguing far too often, and as much as she would love to shoot him point blank and then throw him out the air lock, she knew she couldn't get rid of one of Cerberus' best in a time like this. "The real question is what are you doing back here? It's late, you should either be resting for tomorrow, or going over your results."

"I have just as much access to the biowing as you do, Miranda," he grumbled, moving to the monitor and typing in a few commands that complied the data that had been gathering since the last sweep and transferred it to his omni-tool. "I heard you talking to him. You know we haven't begun treatment, right? He's still brain dead."

"Yes, I'm more than well aware of _that _fact," she hissed, turning on her heel and regarding the Chief Medical Officer with her eyes narrowed and arms crossed. "Pyles and Savar have complied more than enough evidence to assure that the cybernetics and biological restoration treatments will work. We're running out of time and we need to start injections as soon as possible."

"The beginning of the treatment process will have to wait," Wilson said, throwing the comment over his shoulder. "Though the two have complied a lot of evidence, it still isn't enough to assure me. I want to be 100% sure that everything will go as planned before we start this. Yeah, we're running out of time, but frankly, we only have on chance to do this, and we have to do it right."

"Listen, I am the head of this station, I am the head of his cell, the decisions are up to me and I say we begin the treatments tomorrow. I personally have gone over every piece of Pyles and Savar's findings, as well as did both of their work, twice as fast to check their results. Everything will go as planned, and we need to start making headway."

"Are you seriously that far up the Illusive Man's ass that you can't see the severity of this situation?" he spat, standing up straight and moving to the viewing window, pointing at Shepard. "He's all we got, Miranda. If you fuck this up, daddy TIM can't just give you another one, and if we fuck this up you can count every single one of us dead."

Digging her teeth into her lip, she laughed as an almost evil smile spread across her face. In two steps she crossed the viewing room and stood over Wilson; her heels allowing her to look down at her CMO. "Listen," she drawled, with a voice that was full of poison. "I will state again that I am your boss. No matter how much you argue with me and how much you fight my decisions they are still the ones that will take place. As for the 'severity' of the situation that we are in, you must be far less intelligent than I already thought you were if you think I am ignorant to what is out there. I know, Wilson, most likely better than anyone else, and I know that if we don't fix up Shepard quick, we are all in serious trouble. This isn't just about me, or Shepard, or the Illusive Man – it is about the entirety of organic life, so if you would be so kind as to remove your head from your ass and your foot from your mouth I would greatly appreciate it."

His gaze felt like ice as he glared up at her, but she laughed and knew that she was giving it right back. She saw the slight tic in his jaw, the way his teeth were clenched tight – yeah, he was mad, but he was also scared of her. So scared that he refused to speak a word and merely stepped back to try and distance himself from her.

"The treatments begin tomorrow," she said, placing her hands behind her back and turning towards the door to once again retire to her quarters. Stopping just inside of the laboratory, she looked over her shoulder and made sure her eyes connected with Wilson's. "That's an order."

It was an order that she knew he would listen to, but that didn't mean that a slight sting never pricked at her chest when she heard him mutter "cold-hearted bitch," before the doors slid closed.


	23. The Lazarus Project: Part Three

**An: Here I am, finally, with another update. I apologize for taking so long to work on this story, but with school, my new job, and band it's hard for me to get a spare second to think, let alone write. But, all of my feely-feelings for Miranda and Shepard are still there, and I'm anxious to do another play-through of ME2 and 3 (especially with all of this new bitchin' DLC). Hopefully this chapter wasn't too terrible, and hopefully you all are still sticking with me. I appreciate it greatly!**

**Also, if you guys are on Tumblr, I'll be posting my work on my fan fiction blog: .com.  
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* * *

><p>After the initial reaction of Shepard's extraction from stasis, Miranda's crew immediately took to rebuilding the fallen Commander from the inside out. Bones were finally set, and infused with synthetics to assure their stability, as well as their blood cell production. Blood vessels were properly repaired and tasked with once again directing blood flow, while numerous shots and a few microscopic surgeries stabled his destroyed nervous system. The more progress they made, the more Shepard's own body started to help; the minimal amount of neurological activity that had been achieved enough to start sending out cells hell bent on helping the healing process.<p>

Watching her techs and scientists scurry around the body, while the machines perched over Shepard swung and danced; injecting and extracting fluids left and right, she was pleased that progress was finally being made, but even still, it didn't seem fast enough. It had been close to two months, and though she didn't expect the whole process to be completed overnight, he still looked like he had just been taken out of stasis. Given, skin was starting to form in abstract patterns across his body, but even with the regeneration of his integumentary system, he grew ever more likely to be exposed to infection. She worried when she thought of this, and ordered that all people entering and exiting the laboratory be bound in hazard suits, and decontaminated.

"I still don't understand these," Wilson muttered one day, as both he and Miranda were being thoroughly scrubbed and helped out of their suits. "Why didn't we just seclude Shepard and sterilize the air that he was in?"

"Because he would become dependent on that overly-sterile air, and that would be counterproductive for his growing immune system. The second he got a breath of air that hasn't been sucked clean of bacteria, he would become incredibly sick," Miranda explained, having lost count exactly how many times Wilson has questioned her actions, or argued with her. "So, unless you would like to have him bound in a Quarian enviro-suit, you'll get over it."

And after that, the weeks continued to drag on while Shepard continued to crawl his way towards consciousness. After a few initial months, the team was able to categorize him as 'comatose' instead of 'brain dead', and weeks after that, his brain started recognizing pain impulses from various points in his body and sedatives had to be introduced. Cybernetics were introduced to increase the rate of repair in his body, and before she knew it, she was looking down at the face of Commander John Shepard, and not a destroyed corpse.

_"We've done well,"_ Miranda thought one day, as she observed the scientists and realized that she had put almost two whole years of her life into Lazarus. _"He isn't anywhere close to being ready to function in his military setting, but he's alive, and looks human."_

"Day 702," Wilson announced into his omni-tool when the entire staff within the laboratory fell silent. "Advanced neurological function and true responsiveness has been achieved. Physical reaction times won't be able to be catalogued until the subject is brought out of his comatose state, but electrical responses in the brain show promise. Steroid treatments have kept muscle definition in the subject's usual range, and multiple nutritional supplements have been added to his IV to promote biological growth on top of the assistance from biosynthetics."

"Ventral organs are working soundly," Pyles said, typing in information to his omni-pad before messing with the commands on the scanning technology outfitted in the lab. "While dorsal organs remain functional and well healed."

"Can you give me a percentage on the rate of regeneration up to this point?" Miranda asked, looking down at Shepard's calm face and walking around his bed to view the screen attached to the scanner Pyles was working at.

"I can go system by system and transfer my findings to you tonight, but overall I would say a 90% regen rate," the scientist answered, looking to the screen and turning to his omni-pad before devoting his attention to his boss. "He is doing well, and I would say that he will be ready for anti-sedation treatments in another month or two. After which, we can begin his mental and physical screenings, as well as his repertoire of therapies."

"Good," she nodded, looking to her omni-tool to accept the transfer of information being sent to her from all throughout the Lazarus Station. "I plan to do some cursory psychological testing tomorrow. We'll lower his sedatives and bring up some instances in his past to see if his mind reacts. It isn't solid evidence, but it can give me an idea of exactly how much work we'll have to do when he wakes up."

"And how do you plan on calculating the amount of anti-sedatives we have to give him so he is isn't hurting, but aware enough to react subconsciously?" Wilson asked in his snide tone, glaring at the Operative before snapping his eyes back to the terminal he was standing before.

"That will be a question for you to answer, Wilson," Miranda assigned, too exhausted to offer the temperamental Medical Officer a satisfied smile. "Consult with our mathematicians and biologists if you run into trouble, but I want an answer on my desk tomorrow morning. I'll conduct the psych tests at 1000 hours. Be prepared and present at that time."

Wilson sighed and dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he watch Miranda nod to Pyles and excuse herself to her office. His fists clenched at his sides, and he released a ragged breath to keep himself from lashing out and destroying whatever he could get his hands on. "I don't get her," Wilson spat, returning to his work and angrily typing commands in his terminal to access the information cache. "She should be happy about the progress we have made, and get off my fucking back...instead she's still just the same old ice queen. Maybe she thinks Shepard will be the new favorite, and is hoping that the more she pushes us, the more likely we are to make a mistake. Then she'll just throw us to the Illusive Man and take her rightful place on his dick."

"I don't understand why you dislike her so much," Pyles offered, cringing as he instantly felt his boss' hot gaze burn into the back of his neck. "Yes, she's cold and calculated, but isn't that what we need in a Cell Head? Someone who isn't overly critical and logical would have already messed up. She does good work, and she's intelligent. Not even you can deny that."

"She's a bitch hell bent on destroying this cell and everyone in it," Wilson growled, slamming his hand onto his terminal before he turned on his heel and stalked away. "But I seem to be the only one who can see that."

* * *

><p>Miranda's eyes narrowed as she looked down at her omni-pad and walked into the laboratory. As requested, Wilson was already there prepping Shepard for the anti-sedatives that would be given to him; working silently and uninterrupted. Waiting to see if he would recognize that she arrived, she sighed and tossed her omni-pad onto the desk he was standing by. "And, exactly how much thought did you give to these estimates?"<p>

"I worked on them all night," he answered, swatting away the technology and caring little when it fell to the floor. "I calculated my findings and had them checked with our chief mathematicians and biologists...like you said."

"Sure, as a soldier his pain tolerance is a lot higher than the usual human, but that doesn't mean that total biological reconstruction feelings like a day at the spa," she hissed. "He could very well wake up screaming in pain with all the anti-seds you want to give him."

"Just trust my judgment for once," Wilson spat, shaking his head and placing the appropriate medicines in Shepard's multiple IVs. "Prepare your questions for your psych test, and I'll hook his brain up to the monitor."

Huffing, she shook her head, and turned away from her infuriating colleague once she picked up the omni-pad he had thrown to the ground. She checked it for malfunction, and when she miraculously found none, she pulled up the list of questions she wanted to address. Moving to stand by Shepard's side, she assisted Wilson by placing the electrodes on his temples and stepped back when the monitor beeped to life and started cataloguing his neurological activity.

"Floor's yours, Lawson," Wilson muttered, his eyes drooping as he pressed a button on his terminal and let the anti-sedatives flood into Shepard's bloodstream. "I have the machine set to scan every .5 seconds."

Offering him a nod, she glanced at Shepard's sleeping face before she looked at her omni-pad. "Well, let's see if personal information has been retained. Tell me, what is your name? Craig? Larry? Josh?" She listened as the monotone beeping kept its steady pace, and Shepard's brain activity remained dormant. "How about, John?" she asked, smirking as a small spike appeared on the screen and the beeping elevated in pitch.

"Good," she smiled, looking to Wilson whose eyes had widened in surprise. "Now, let's see if you'll react to personal experiences. Do you remember Mindoir? Your home planet that was attacked by slavers? You were one of the few people that emerged alive."

"He's reacting," Wilson assured, looking at Shepard's brain scans. "He's feeling emotion, of which I assume is sadness."

"For good reason," she soothed, speaking more to Shepard than Wilson. "It was tragic, but you eventually redeemed yourself. You joined the Alliance, and easily became an exceptional soldier, but you experienced pain along the way. You and your crew went up against a thresher maw, and once again, you were the only one to emerge alive. Alliance command pitied you, and gave you an easy job on Elysium, guarding spaceports and protecting citizens. You didn't truly earn your name until slavers found that colony too, and you beat them off almost single-handedly."

"Brain activity still on the board," Wilson assured, when Miranda glanced up at him for confirmation.

"Good, you're reacting well, Shepard. Now, I'm going to list off some names to see if you remember them. Captain David Anderson, Ambassador Donnel Udina, Garrus Vakarian, Tali'Zorah, Dr. Liara T'Soni, Kaidan Alenko, Ashley Williams-"

"Whoa, those last two lit up the charts."

"Kaidan...the friend you left on Virmire. You couldn't save everyone at Saren's cloning facility, and you had to make a choice. You left him behind to die, while you saved Ashley - your lover."

Suddenly, Shepard's brain monitor started reflecting dangerous numbers, while the sound echoing his heartbeat started going haywire. Miranda grew rigid and looked from monitor to monitor to try and assess what was going on. His chest rose and fell violently, and his breath pushed from between his lips with audible force. "There," Miranda pointed out, directing Wilson's attention to a particular brain scan. "On the monitor. Something's wrong."

"He's reacting to outside stimuli," Wilson answered, watching as separate parts of Shepard's brain started to glow. "Showing an awareness of his surroundings." Tearing his eyes away from the screen, he caught sight of Shepard; his eyes barely opened and his head lolling from side to side. "Oh my god, Miranda. I think he's waking up."

Walking closer to him, she watched his squirm; utterly terrified and confused. "Damn it, Wilson! He's not ready yet. Give him the sedative," she ordered, before she looked down to the distraught man and softly wrapped her fingers around his wrist when his hand rose in an attempting to touch her. "Shepard," she whispered quietly. "Don't try to move. Just lie still. Try to stay calm."

Despite her orders, his heart rate rose, and his eyes widened slightly when he felt her press his arm down to the cool steel surface he was lying on. He had no idea what was going on, who these strange people were, and the more he tried to decipher his situation, the more terrified he became. He felt the sedative attempt to overcome him, but his increased adrenaline and N7 training kicked in and fought through the hold on the medicine.

"Heart rate still climbing. Brain activity is off the charts. Stats pushing into the red zone. It's not working," Wilson announced, his voice laced with terror and his fingers moving wildly over the terminal.

Growling, she pushed Wilson away from the monitor, and turned to shoot the words over her shoulder. "Another dose! Now!"

Wilson complied, and the two scientists sighed as the blaring sound of his heart monitor started slowing. "Heart rate dropping. Stats falling back into normal range. That was too close...we almost lost him."

Shepard's eyes were dropping, his head lolling to the side and catching sight of Miranda's face. Her lips were turned up in a smile, her blue eyes shining as if she was telling him with just a look that he didn't have to worry about anything. He felt her hand settle against his forearm and squeeze, relaxing him and allowing the sedatives to take their hold. He blinked and watched as her eyes hardened at this 'Wilson's' words; his eyes focused on her face as she turned to address the man in question. "I told you your estimates were off. Run the numbers again."

His eyes closed as her voice seemed to dull and lengthen. He tried focusing on her face, but only caught sight of the woman's comforting eyes before his head turned and he watched the pipes lining the ceiling fade to black. His finger twitched as he still felt her hand against his arm, and he silently contemplated if the woman he just witnessed was, indeed, an angel.


	24. The Awakening

**An: And this is where it all starts getting really...well relevant and intense. Hopefully I didn't do too bad on this first chapter. When I wrote it, I just went with it, and I waited about a week to edit. I don't think I did too terribly bad. Enjoy (as much as possible)**

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><p>As much as Miranda loved taking a few minutes away from her Cerberus endeavors to relax and catch up on the energy she had depleted performing her job, she couldn't deny that she always felt calmer with her eyes roving over a report or her fingers typing at blinding speeds as she wrote one of her own. Though she was still human, she wasn't required to sleep as often as those without her level of genetic modification, and she learned early on that idleness wasn't her friend. It allowed her to think of subjects she would rather not breach, and it distracted her from her goals. She was always one to think too much when given time, so she was quick to discipline herself to an almost unending work schedule when she entered Cerberus ranks.<p>

True to her nature, while everyone else on the station was sleeping, she was awake; at her desk going over notes and formulating a cell-wide report for the Illusive Man's records. A small smirk pulled at her lips as she recalled the tiring days of the project that finally materialized into Shepard's rebirth. He was scheduled to be awoken within the next few days, and to say the least, her boss was pleased.

The usual stress she felt was gone, the pressure on her shoulders no longer there, and the pressing fatigue virtually disappeared. It seemed that with the smooth end to the hardest part of Project Lazarus came the smooth end to all of her worrying and her strung out attitude. Finalizing the last of her report, she signed off on the bottom, and sent it to the Illusive Man before she settled back in her chair and raised her arms over her head.

She groaned as her body creaked and cracked in response to the sudden motions; initially protesting the act of movement. With coaxing she got her body to cooperate and moved to her bed with every intention of giving herself a good night's sleep. She sat on the edge of the cot, but didn't get the chance to lie back before a shrill alarm sounded from her terminal.

Startled, she shot up from where she sat, and once again returned to her work place. Lowering herself into her seat, she wondered if something was wrong with the sending of her report, until the alarm on her terminal started echoing throughout the entire station. The lights in her office dimmed and tinted a dark red; a slow, dreadful flash staining and draining the walls of their color.

"What the fuck is going on?" she asked, attempting to access sections of the station from her terminal, but finding her codes blocked or the servers encrypted. Growling, she listened as the footsteps of those in her wing echoed through the halls as they ran for whatever safety they could find. She remained put, and hacked into the station's security reports just as she heard a blood curdling scream from the labs just down the hall.

_Alert! Code red! Section 548!_

_Security override of mechanical soldiers and defense units! Friend or foe codes hacked! All targets are hostile!_

"God dammit," Miranda spat, her hands clenching as she heard the barely-there drone of mechs marching through the halls. Quickly pushing herself from behind her desk, she pressed her hand into the lock at her door and encrypted it with a key that would take time to hack. "Twenty credits says whoever hacked these bastards sent them after me," she said to open air with a thoroughly spiteful tone.

True to her thoughts, the sound of the mechanical marching grew steadily louder as she returned to her terminal and let her fingers fly. "I have a feeling," she muttered quietly as she slowly hacked into the laboratory's cameras and caught sight of Shepard's unconscious form. "That they're coming for you too..." With ease, she managed to worm her way into the intercom system, as well as the lab server that controlled the extensive array of equipment surrounding Shepard's body before she set her sights on the levels of sedatives and anti-sedatives being released into his blood stream.

"You aren't ready for this," she sighed, knowing well of the negative effects this fire fight could have. "Let's just hope you're still the soldier I need you to be."

The anti-sedation treatments released, and she listened in as explosions seemed to near and she caught sight of his body being jostled. She cringed, and her fingers clenched as fear started to settle deep within her stomach. "Wake up, Commander," she called into the intercom, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. He didn't move, and she heard the mechanical herd nearing the locked door of the lab. "Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now, this facility is under attack!"

His eyes opened, and his hand immediately went to his jaw; his whole body moving slowly as he sat up and grasped at the healing scars on his side. "Shepard, your scars aren't healed, but I need you to get moving. This facility is under attack."

"I can see that," he muttered, his voice gruff and tired against her ear. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, as her fingers worked on swinging the cameras to view the room around him.

"Your armor and your pistol are in the locker on the other side of the room. Hurry, and grab them," Miranda ordered as she pulled up feeds from other security cameras surrounding the main medical wing to locate the mech's current position.

"I know this probably isn't the best time to ask, but who are you, and where the hell am I?"

"You're right, this is probably the worst time to ask," she answered. "There are mechs closing in on your position. I would suggest you keep your questions to yourself until we're in a less dire situation."

"And how am I going to get out of this dire situation without a thermal clip?"

"Shepard, it's a medical wing, what do you expect?" Miranda asked, as she narrowed her eyes and caught sight of three shiny bodies huddled close to the door of the lab, before they quickly dispersed. "Shit. Shepard, find cover. They've set up a bomb by the door. Shield yourself from the blast."

As if second nature, she watched as he easily crouched into cover and pressed against the glass surrounding some of their equipment; his gun poised perfectly and his body moving as if the armor was nothing more than a second skin. You couldn't tell that he had been comatose, or worse the past two years, and though she wouldn't bring it up now, she was extremely impressed.

"So, mind telling me what's going on?"

"Someone's hacking security trying to kill you," she explained, typing furiously in an attempt to find a clear path to guide him through, as the sound of the mechs in her own hall kept getting louder and louder. "Search for a thermal clip for your pistol."

Quick to follow her lead, he exited the lab and found the body of a security guard crumbled in the corner. Going for his belt, he snatched the thermal clip from his side and slid it into his pistol; cocking it back and prepping it for fire. He pushed forward, and her eyes followed; jumping ahead of him to try and keep him safe. "Looks like the barricade didn't really work."

"Looks like the friendly fire aspect didn't work either," he deadpanned, vaulting over the barricade, and swinging around to send a round flying through the head of a mech he didn't give her time to see.

"Funny," she droned, as she silently applauded his reflexes, and kept with him as he trekked through the halls. From her office, she locked and shut down the doors that led towards danger; forming a maze for him that he followed with ease. Without much coaxing, he was diving into cover on his own, shooting off the heads of mechs without a single round lost, and pushing through the small teams of soldiers as if it posed no trouble to him.

"I'm just trying to keep the mood light," he finally answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, after finishing off the final mech in the band of five and retrieving the clips that remained.

"And I'm trying to keep you alive," she argued, her fingers moving more quickly as his sarcastic attitude started to grate against her nerves. "Don't waste time. I can't keep the mechs distracted for long."

"What about the others?" he asked, his voice...changed slightly. She could only assume he passed by windows that looked in on the bloodshed of unarmed scientists versus heavily armored heavy mechs, and she sighed as she thought back to the questions she asked him when he was nothing more than a corpse.

_Maybe he is a paragon..._"I can't save them," she answered simply. "Just keep moving. There's a grenade launcher up ahead, as well as mechs closing in on your position. Finish them off."

Without questioning her further, he complied, and settled the grenade launcher on his shoulder before firing it into the middle of the mechs. The explosion alert came up on her terminal and she watched as flame reached across the exit he needed to take. "Take the elevator down one floor," she instructed. "And get to the door. Hurry! Run!"

He charged through unscathed, and she sighed as he reached the other side. "You're doing great, Shepard. Head to the next room and I'll try and meet you."

"You're breaking up."

"Shit," she hissed, as she looked up and noticed a red spark starting at the top of the crack her door formed. "Shepard, do you read me? I have mechs closing in on my position!"

He never answered, and as the spark slowly lowered, her terminal shorted out and her connections in the station's security were lost. She growled and stood up, pulling out her gun and looking it over before she stepped up to her door and allowed the blue energy of her biotics to slide up the length of her arm.

"I'm getting real tired of this bullshit," she snapped, pressing her hand into the lock and overloading it, as well as the hoard of mechs sent to kill her off. The door opened, and she watched as the fried mechanical bodies fell to the floor in a heap of smoke and sparks.

"Good," she nodded, stepping over the carnage and heading in the direction where the mechs came from. "Now, time to figure out who's been tampering with my security systems."

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><p>As she cleared the final wave of mechs that hung back by the control center, she wasn't surprised to find the Friend or Foe override completely fried. She neared the destroyed terminal, and carefully picked through the remains until she found the wires she needed and placed them together. There was no way she would be able to get this thing working, but there was a chance she could extract enough data to find out who last changed the controls. She knew that, likely, the data would be damaged and encrypted, but she knew the tech in this station like the back of her hand, and was sure she could find enough to kill the bastard responsible for all of this trouble.<p>

Carefully, she synced her omni-tool to the server, and managed to twist up the wires enough to secure a weak, and relatively fragile connection to the destroyed terminal. From her omni-tool, she attempted to sift through the encrypted files, and managed to find the last log-in record, but it was nothing more than symbols and abstract information. She cursed, moved to a terminal that hadn't been destroyed, and attempted to hack into the security cameras hidden in the room's ceiling. Once again, she found trouble, and growled as she realized the station-wide server was crashing, and all of her codes had been black-listed.

"Well, fuck," she spat, trying one last effort to sync and view the information from her omni-tool. After a slow, and shaky download; a terrible quality rendition of what was left of the security feeds flashed above her arm, and her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the bald-headed man who attempted to override the Friend or Foe system, and simply resorted to blowing it up when he started getting nervous and the alarms started to sound.

"Wilson," she hissed, as the feed disappeared and the terminal she was working at completely shut down. Her hand clenched, and she drew her gun as she left the control center with every intention of forcing her way through the battle field and emerging at the shuttles so she could greet her Chief Medical Officer with all the respect he deserved.

She had worked too damn hard for her progress on Project Lazarus, and she had worked too damn hard to bring that man back to life. He was her project, and she would destroy anything that threatened to hurt him.

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><p>By the time she reached the shuttles, the only mechs that remained were the ones lurking outside. She caught sight of them, but managed to remain hidden. Leaning against their only way out, she kept her gun nestled tight between her fingers while her eyes remained on the only door that led to freedom. She had a feeling the man she <em>really<em> wanted would be with them, and she laughed when she saw him, as well as Shepard and Jacob push through the door leading from A wing.

She waited behind the door as she listened to the sound of gun fire and failed mechs before Shepard snooped around in the back room and then directed his crew towards the door. Wilson's footfalls were heavily, and he panted in his shaky attempt to unlock the door. "C'mon, through here," he huffed. "We're almost at the..."

The doors slid open, and she looked into eyes that were wide with terror. He recoiled from her and stuttered as he said "Miranda! But you were-"

She didn't let him finish, and simply leveled her gun with his throat before squeezing the trigger. "Dead?" she asked as he fell to a useless heap at her feet, and she looked up at a clearly distraught Jacob and a Shepard with a gun aimed at her head_. 'Nice reflexes'_ she whispered silently to herself. _'At least he isn't too trusting.'_

"What the hell are you doing?" Jacob asked, reaching out with the clear intention to check Wilson's pulse, before he caught sight of the gaping hole where his throat once was.

"My job," Miranda answered, stepping away from his body and holstering her gun at her hip. "Wilson betrayed us all."

"I had a feeling he was just looking for a chance to shoot me in the back," Shepard answered, lowering his gun, albeit reluctantly, and holstering it as well.

"Good instincts. Now, let's get on this shuttle and get out of here," she said, stepping back and turning slightly towards their shuttle. "My boss wants to speak to you."

"You mean the Illusive Man?" Shepard asked, stopping Miranda in her tracks. "I know you work for Cerberus."

"Ah, Jacob," she drolled, turning towards her former lover and crossing her arms over her chest. "I should have known your conscious would get the better of you."

"Lying to the Commander isn't a way to get him to join our cause."

"Well, since we're getting everything out in the open, do you have any more questions?" Miranda inquired, turning her eyes back to the Commander and watching as his own narrowed to frightfully cold slits. She saw a flash of something cross his cerulean gaze, before his eyes widened slightly. He remembered her.

"Miranda...the woman I saw when I woke up the first time. That was you."

"Indeed, good to see you've retained your memory."

"And you rebuilt me? Brought me back to life?"

Raising an eyebrow, she glanced at Jacob, and shrugged her shoulder when he looked away. "Yes, myself and a highly trained team of specialists."

He blinked, and momentarily looked behind him as he seemed to process everything that had happened in the past hour. He sighed, and his shoulder sagged momentarily, before his whole body went rigid and his eyes locked with Miranda's. He looked terrifying, but underneath it all she could see his fear. She was an unknown; an unknown labeled with the insignia of terrorists in his eyes. He wasn't so stupid as to refuse help off the station, but he wasn't trusting, and wasn't willing to cooperate with them easily.

"Fine," he growled, glancing over at Jacob before returning his gaze to her. "Let's go. I've had enough of this station to last a life time."

"Or two, in your case," she answered, turning and tilting her head towards the shuttle, before the three boarded, and she directed the autopilot to take them far away from the Lazarus Research Station.


	25. Minuteman Station

**An: Another new chapter, now that I've (once again) played through Mass Effect 2 and have an overall map for how the story will progress. Hopefully this chapter isn't too terrible, and everyone is still interested. Like always, I'm sorry for the extended breaks between each chapter, but know I'm trying to get as much done with this story as possible (because I'm sure as hell anxious to see it progress).**

**Enjoy!  
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><p>The shuttle, though spacious, felt claustrophobic at the least. Between Jacob's nervous shifting, Shepard's sharp, angry eyes and the tension pulsing between all three of them, Miranda was anxious to disrupt the uncomfortable silence the three had managed to fall into. Crossing her legs, she directed her attention towards Shepard and cleared her throat when the Commander failed to acknowledge her overall existence. "Before you meet the Illusive Man, I need to ask a few questions to assess your condition."<p>

"I'd rather not talk," Shepard responded, his voice gruff and dismissive. "Maybe you should check your databases if you have questions, I'm sure you have all the information you need there."

"Charming," she drolled, drumming her fingers against her thigh. "But I'm afraid you're incorrect. This is information that I need directly from the source."

"Come on, Miranda," Jacob spoke up, sitting back further in his seat and glancing over at Shepard; whose eyes remained glued on the rivers of stars that flowed passed the shuttle's window. "His memories are intact and he responded perfectly to hostility. He's as much a soldier now as he was before he was brought to us, and I'm sure the Illusive Man already knows that."

"No doubt he's already seen the footage from the Lazarus Station, but that doesn't mean I can skip preliminaries. It's been two years since the attack. The Illusive Man and myself need to know that Shepard's personality and memories are sound. Now please, ask the questions," she ordered, shooting a look at the man at her side that ensured he wouldn't disobey her orders.

"Did you say two years?" Shepard asked, looking up at Miranda with foggy eyes that absolutely stunned her. This Commander, such a strong and ruthless soldier reduced to a man that looked so lost and weak by mere mention of how much time he has lost while in his 'coma'. For a moment, her heart pulsed with sympathy for the man she resurrected, but that pang subsided when his gaze hardened and his jaw tightened. "I didn't know I was gone that long..."

"Two years and twelve days," Jacob assured. "And you were on an operating table for most of it."

"The sooner we ask the questions, the sooner we can be done with this," she interrupted, more so fueled by her want for answers than empathy towards the man whose world was, most likely, flipping upside down. "Jacob..."

"Fine," the Operative sighed, sitting forward and pressing his elbows into his thighs as he recalled all of Shepard's personal history that he was ordered to study when not on active duty during Project Lazarus. "You were a colonist kid. Grew up on Mindoir but lost everything in a fight against Batarian slavers. Alone, with nowhere to go, you joined the military and proved to be an amazing soldier, but it didn't start out easy. You and your battalion went up against a Thresher Maw but you were the only one who managed to escape. The Alliance sent you to Elysium to serve as a guard for a small, local space port in hopes it would relax you some, but once again, the slavers found you. You proved yourself that night, and almost single handedly destroyed every slaver that dared to go planet side. Do you remember any of that?"

"Yeah," Shepard growled, shaking his head and letting his eyes fall to the floor below. "All of the murder, all of the blood, all of the people I couldn't protect...you could say it's a hard thing to forget about."

"Though trying, all of those events led to something great. Elysium would be in ruins now if you weren't there," Jacob said, offering the Commander an encouraging smile that Shepard easily brushed off. "Satisfied Miranda?"

"Hardly," she huffed, sitting back in her seat and gaining Shepard's attention. "I want to try something more recent. How about Virmire, where you destroyed Saren's cloning facility? You left Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko to die in the blast and saved your Gunnery Chief. Why was that?"

"Lieutenant Alenko was a hero, and deserves to be respected. It wasn't an easy choice and it isn't one I ever want to make again," the Commander growled, his grey blue eyes burning red with anger. Miranda quirked her head, observing his peculiar behavior and wondered if she should venture further into the unmapped regions of Shepard's emotional turmoil. "And I would appreciate if you dropped the subject."

"Well, I suppose I can let the recollection of Virmire slide since you obviously do remember and it isn't hard to draw conclusions of why Alenko was left behind by the fraternization reports about you and Gunnery Chief Williams," she tested, watching as Shepard looked at her with an incredulous look that faded to anger that was far more heated than that which had flared at the mention of Kaidan's name. "How about we try the crash of the SSV Normandy SR-1? How much of that do you remember?"

"I told you I was done with all your fucking questions," he spat, his entire body tensing as if he was ready to pounce and kill anyone who continued to prod at him. Had the situation been different, and Miranda didn't have the advantage of a clean bill of health and a lack of stitched wounds, she might have considered herself scared. There was no way she could tell what he would do in close quarters, but she knew where every slow-healing scar resided and could place every weak spot that had the capability to incapacitate the Commander for a week. She smirked at his reaction, and moved onwards in her questioning - outwardly un-fazed.

"You know Commander, the easier you comply, the less painful this has to be. Whether I have to force the answers out of you or you offer them willingly is of no concern to me."

"Miranda," Jacob whispered, clearly playing devil's advocate. "Enough with the interrogation. The memories are there. If they weren't, they wouldn't be hurting him this much, and I can personally vouch for Shepard's combat skills. He's fine."

She shrugged a nonchalant shoulder and stood as she caught sight of the docking bay of the Minuteman Station approaching. Nearing the door, she leaned against the side of the shuttle and looked over at both men with an expression that failed to convey the inkling of annoyance that was building steadily with Shepard's constant resistance. "Suit yourself," she finally said as the shuttle touched down and the door at her side opened. Without hesitation she stepped off, and threw her words over her shoulder in direction of the two she left to follow her. "We'll just have to hope the Illusive Man accepts our little field tests as evidence enough."

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><p>"The Illusive Man is waiting for you in the other room," Miranda spoke to open air once she heard the reluctant pair of footsteps follow her into the station's check-in. Walking well ahead of the two, she found solace at the terminal on the far side of the room and glanced up just long enough to see Jacob pointing towards the hallway that led to the comm buoy that linked to the Illusive Man's office. She caught Shepard's eye and found the look hiding in his irises unsettling. He hated it. He hated everything - being around Cerberus, being resurrected, being brought to the Illusive Man. Knowing his Alliance mind set she hypothesized that he would act like this, but she never thought that his angry demeanor would actually affect her, not even a little bit.<p>

She cleared her throat as his never-ending stare produced an uncomfortable lump in the center of her throat. She nodded towards the hall, and his eyes held for a second longer until their contact broke and he disappeared around the corner. A long, drawn out sigh passed from between her lips and she moved to focus back on the report she should have been writing, until she noticed that Jacob had migrated to stand right in front of her.

"You know, this is traumatizing for him. He might respond better towards you if you appeal to his...well...human side. He's alive now, Miranda. Not comatose on your lab table," he said, resting his hands on either side of her terminal and looking at her with a pleading look in his eyes.

"He's a big boy Jacob," she sighed, shaking her head and moving her fingers to start typing up her report to the Illusive Man. "He doesn't need me to hold his hand and call him sweetheart. We don't need to be friends to get this mission done. All he is needed for is to lead our fight and organize a team skilled enough to win this war."

"I'll admit that no, he doesn't need babied, but he doesn't need to be treated like an extension of our arm. He's a hero, and a damn good soldier. You should give him the respect he deserves."

"And you should be briefing yourself on what happened on Freedom's Progress," Miranda quipped. "Try worrying about the mission instead of worrying about Commander Shepard's feelings."

"Well, it worries me that you won't care about them at all. How would you feel knowing that you've just woken up after having lost two years of your life because you got spaced in an unseen attack that killed most of your crew? He's already been through hell ten times over, and now he wakes up in the hands of the enemy with more terrible memories to add to the list-"

"As as terrible as his loss has been, he joined the military knowing the horrors that exist in the world. He was already exposed to slaver attacks before he joined the Alliance, and he's learned since then that slavers can't compare to some of the things lurking in the furthest reaches of the galaxy," she said, stalling the progress of her report to meet Jacob's eyes. "He's seen more horrors than you and I have witnessed combined, and he's doomed to witness the worse unfold. What he needs is a team to help him win this inevitable massacre, not a smile from your friendly neighborhood terrorist."

She spat the last word and Jacob visibly cringed. She could tell he had been trying hard to get on the Commander's good side, but he had failed to keep in mind that Cerberus was who he championed, and who Shepard despised. She sighed and shook her head as her eyes fell to the report that rested, barely written, on the screen in front of her. "Just...concentrate more about the mission, and a little less on Commander Shepard, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Jacob responded with a sigh of his own before he turned on his heel and moved to stand before the window that looked out over the deep vacuum of space. Miranda watched as he walked away and closed her eyes for a moment before the room fell into silence. The tension returned but she ignored it, and silently cursed when she heard Shepard's heavy footfalls echo through the halls.

He appeared, looking as grim as ever, and immediately gravitated towards her. She kept her head down, attempting to get the point across that she had work to do in the little time they had before they were required to send off, but he ignored her body language completely and audibly smacked his hand on the platform sticking out of the side of her terminal to get her attention. Miranda jumped at the sound, and turned to look up into the Commander's hostile stare. "A simple hello would have sufficed..."

"Sorry Lawson, but I want to get something cleared up, and I want it cleared up quick," he growled, the heat of his breath brushing against her cheek. "I sure as hell couldn't tell this to the Illusive Man, considering he would just shrug it off like the pretentious asshole he is, so I decided it would be your ears this one would have to fall on. If you want my help, and you want to stay out of an Alliance prison for the rest of your life, you'll follow my orders. I don't like this any more than you do, so let's get this shit cleared up as quickly and painlessly as possible. Am I understood?"

"I have no problem following orders, Commander," she pushed back, taking a step forward and pressing herself into his personal space. "Your abilities and expertise are respectable...it's your motives I question. I am well aware of the lingering devotion to the Alliance you have, but I believe in what Cerberus stands for. This doesn't have to be a personal war, Shepard, not as long as you prove to be the asset we invested in."

"I'm not some stock you bought off the fucking market," Shepard snapped, the muscles in his shoulders and jaw tensing visibly. "I'm a soldier, a man...one you and your organization of terrorists have had eyes on for years, and now I am your Commanding Officer. This is not a Cerberus operation, but a fight much larger than one you have ever seen. Do me a favor, and try not to flatter yourself."

"Yes, sir," Miranda drolled. "But, if I may, Commander? I would spend more time actually _doing_ the missions instead of stalking around a room trying to keep your squad in line. We've been ordered to serve under, and listen to you. We won't betray that, unlike other organizations I know."

Shepard inhaled deeply, but closed his eyes and exhaled through his teeth. He turned, choosing to save her comment for another day and growled "Report to the shuttle in 5 minutes, you can brief me about Freedom's Progress on the way," before he stepped away from her and brushed past Jacob with his hand flexing over the pistol at his hip.


	26. Freedom's Progress

**An: So here we are! Finally, a new chapter. I've written this over a span of a few weeks and revised it at school (which I'm at right now), so please forgive me if there are any grammatical errors and overall suckiness.**

**Know that with the first semester coming to a close, and Christmas break opening up, I should be writing a lot more (for more than just this story).  
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**But until then, enjoy. :D  
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><p>Once again, the shuttle felt compressed and the heat from Shepard's gaze constantly burnt through her uniform. Hatred and distrust emanated from his rigid form and while she came off passive, she was worried. Her past experience within Cerberus had more than proven that tension between partners does nothing to forward a mission, while her current knowledge assured her that their mission was one that mustn't be delayed. Lives were at stake, and humanity as a whole was very well hanging within the balance between evolution and annihilation, but pride on both sides was strong and there was no way in hell she would break first.<p>

Shepard seemed to realize that and, while still seething, he managed to grit his teeth enough to inquire the Cerberus Officer about their current destination. "Lawson, tell me what you know about Freedom's Progress."

"It's a typical human settlement in the Terminus Systems," she relayed; her voice as neutral as her expression. "They had a small military force for protection supplemented by mechs and security drones. Average in almost every way, really. Completely unremarkable, until the disappearance."

"Have you tried comparing and contrasting the commonalities of the colonies that have been attacked?"

"Yes, the only thing that compares is racial diversity, or lack thereof. All targeted colonies have been human colonies, but that's information you are already familiar of."

"There's nothing similar other than that?"

"Not at all," Miranda answered. "An array of colonies have been hit from research based camps to advanced settlements to new colonies that have just settled. The only thing the same are the humans that once occupied them."

Upon inspection, the Commander seemed outwardly puzzled about the unique ordeal but hell, so was everyone else. It was queer to say the least that other organics have been left to their normal lives while human colonies on the fringes of space have been wiped clean without a trace. There were no notes left, no distress beacons, no signs of warfare, and no survivors. No one knew anything, and while Miranda was excited to go planet side and investigate one of the colonies for herself, storming into utter darkness was a terrifying concept.

"We should be arriving soon," she said, casting a glance outside the shuttle. "As you know, we are under your command. Do you have any orders?"

"Survivors," he answered with little to no hesitation. "If there are survivors we need to find them."

"No other affected colonies have logged survivor reports-"

"That doesn't mean one might not show up," Shepard interrupted, the fire - once dimmed - now returning to his misty grey eyes. "Don't underestimate your situation, especially a situation like this."

Miranda sighed, anger flaring deep in her chest. Her teeth clenched and pain shot up her jaw as she forced back her retort. Jacob shifted beside her, and she was aware that he noticed the tension rising in her shoulders. "And," he began tentatively. "If, like the other colonies we find no survivors?"

"We find out what the hell happened."

* * *

><p>As soon as the shuttle door opened an ungodly cold pierced through Miranda's uniform and took hold of her entire body. Her breath slipped past her lips in puffs of white and snow fell from the inky sky in disheartened lines. Other than their breathing and the buzzing of the shuttle's eezo core, Freedom's Progress was silent. An unsettling fear dug its way deep into her heart, but like all of her other emotions, she refused to let it color her face.<p>

Shepard, standing in front of them, turned and glanced at the two Cerberus officials. His face was mostly neutral, but something resembling fear and curiosity swirled in his eyes. His hand rose and he pulled his assault rifle from his back; preparing himself in proper military fashion. Looking forward towards the opening of the cafeteria, he pulled the butt of his rifle into his shoulder and advanced in silence. Weary of trekking into the unknown, Miranda hesitated and she felt Jacob's comforting touch against her shoulder before the two followed their Commander's lead.

The cafeteria was like the entire colony - desolate and a former reminder of the life that once existed there. The smell of coffee lingered in the air and plates of half eaten food rested on the array of tables pressed against the wall. Steam rose from the surface of drinks that still held their heat. The three stalled and fought away the cold hands running up their spines; suppressing the waves of shivering.

"It looks like everyone just up and left in the middle of dinner," Jacob muttered.

While she silently pleaded for the silence to be broken, Shepard didn't reply. Instead he pushed through the door leading from the cafeteria and led the team along a gangway that deposited them in a concrete yard that the cafeteria and the landing pad sat upon. Metal barrels and transport crates were scattered across the yard and on the far side resided a metal door settled into the stone slicing the colony into multiple distorted circles. While Shepard moved to examine the locked door, Jacob and Miranda hung back. The yard, too, was like the rest of the colony - untouched.

"Strange," Miranda muttered, her voice amplifying and projecting into Shepard and Jacob's ears through their comm link. "No signs of distress...no signs of battle. I doubt that the colonists went willingly, so why did they go peacefully?"

"Valid question," Shepard addressed through their link. "But I don't think the air is keen on answering."

While, in some way, she appreciated his snarky response, she favored the suffocating silence over his smartass remarks. Once again anger welled in her chest and her fingers clenched tightly around the grip of her pistol. She whipped around to confront Shepard, but as soon as she caught him in her sights the door opened and the sound of gunfire erupted into the air. Quickly, she rolled behind one of the transport crates and cursed as she felt heavy fire rebound off the metal against her back. In an attempt to oust their enemy, Miranda leaned out of cover long enough to see that a horde of LOKI mechs fired from behind a raised terrace. Shot after shot closely slid past Shepard, but in her attempt to get close to him, a round rebounded off her shields and took her breath away.

"Dammit," she hissed, sucking in her breath and looking over to Jacob who looked increasingly agitated for being forced away from the front lines. The sounds from Shepard's sniper rifle echoed through the entire colony and she huffed as she pushed herself onto her feet with every intention of crushing one of the mechs with her biotics. Though, when she looked up at the terrace they once occupied, she realized that nothing stood there and that the fire had ceased entirely.

"Wow," Jacob murmured, watching as Shepard stood from his cover and looked over his sniper rifle before opting for his assault rifle once again. "I knew he was good, but...wow."

"Yes," Miranda seethed and clenched her fingers in agitation. "But he is wild, and will get himself killed if he doesn't wait for his bloody squad!"

Despite her fury, they pressed on and jogged until they managed to reunite with the Commander once again. He walked forward slightly but stopped and looked around as if he was assessing their position. Quirking his eyebrow, he crossed his arms over his chest and scratched at his cheek in thought. "Shouldn't the mechs have recognized that we're human?"

"Yes," she assured. "What's worse is that security systems were disabled on the other colonies."

"So the security systems were disable during the disappearance, but kicked back up after everyone was gone with a rewritten friend or foe program?" he asked, turning to consider the facial expressions of both Miranda and Jacob. "It sounds like something synthetics would do."

"If you're inferring that the geth did this that is imposs-" Miranda began, but was cut off when Shepard shook his head and turned to continue walking along the colony's route.

"I'm not talking about geth," Shepard muttered as they pressed through a string of living quarters that led to a room occupied by a group of Quarians huddled together over plans glowing from an omni-tool. Immediately both teams drew their weapons, and moved closer towards each other in preparation for all out war but were interrupted when a melodic but commanding Quarian spoke up.

"Stop right there!" she yelled and stepped through the line of armed men and women. Unarmed herself, she grabbed the gun of her leading man and pushed it to the ground. "Prazza! You said you would let me handle this."

She turned in hopes of extending her hand towards Shepard but she stopped. Narrowing her eyes momentarily, Miranda realized that the Quarian before them was Tali'Zorah - one of Shepard's crew from the original Normandy. Tali's hand moved from Prazza's gun and she turned totally towards Shepard, a combination of realization and happiness coloring her voice as she spoke. "Wait...Shepard?"

"I'm not taking any chances with Cerberus Operatives!" Prazza yelled, snapping his gun back to Shepard's head before he turned his sights on Miranda and then Jacob. Despite the outburst, Shepard reached over and touched Miranda's wrist; commanding her to lower the pistol she had trained between Prazza's hidden eyes. She looked at him incredulously, but followed his command while Tali, once again, physically forced Prazza's gun to the ground.

"Put those weapons down!" she growled, looking over to her armed soldiers. Finally, they followed her orders, and when she was satisfied that her subordinates had complied, she turned to take in Shepard's form again. "Shepard...you're alive?"

Looking over, Miranda noticed Shepard's smile and quirked her eyebrow at the uncharacteristic show of emotion. He shifted his weight back and forth and ran his hand over the back of his neck as if he was nervous at the prospect of reuniting with his long-lost friend. A soft chuckle left his parted lips before he looked to Tali. "Did the geth data I scrounged up for you help you on your pilgrimage?"

"Yes," Tali muttered, her voice even and compartmentalized. She looked down towards the ground and let her shoulders sag for a moment before she whirled on her soldiers. "Keep your weapons down. This is definitely Commander Shepard."

Reluctantly, Prazza holstered his weapon and looked at the other Quarians to assure them to do the same. "Why is your old Commander working for Cerberus?" he asked, glancing between the three standing before him.

"I don't know," Tali said, facing forward and looking to Shepard for an explanation.

Miranda flicked her eyes over to her Commander and noticed that the rare glimpse of nervousness that once colored his features was entirely gone. In its stead, a sense of pure power and strength lingered in every muscle of his body. When he spoke, it was eloquent and clear; not a single hint of self-consciousness evident in his words. "I won't stand by and condone the things Cerberus has done, but they are the only organization pressing an investigation on these colonies. The Council has turned their back on humanity. I haven't."

"Tali," Prazza pressed uncertainly. "You aren't seriously considering trusting Cerberus?"

"No," Tali assured, her head turning slightly to regard Miranda of whom flared slightly at the silent accusation. "I'm trusting Shepard, and besides, we could use the help." She stalled and released a soft sigh before she pushed her shoulders back and began to explain the situation. "One of our people was here on pilgrimage, his name was Veetor. We came to find him."

"Everyone else is missing without a trace. What makes you think Veetor is still alive?" Shepard asked, crossing his arms over his armored chest.

"We saw him when we landed," Prazza answered.

"You saw him?" Jacob spoke up, his voice hard and disdainful. "Then why isn't he with you already?"

"Veetor was injured," Tali explained. "And he's always been...well...nervous."

"She means he is unstable," Prazza grumbled, taking a step forward until he was standing by Tali's side. "Combine that with damage to his suit carbon dioxide scrubbers and an infection from an open air exposure and he's likely delirious."

"When he saw us land he hid in a warehouse on the far side of town," Tali expanded. "We suspect he also programmed the mechs to attack anything that moved."

"Veetor is the only one that might be able to tell us what happened here," Shepard thought aloud, which slightly soothed Miranda's tensing shoulders. "We need to work together if we want to get to him and make sure he is safe."

"Good idea," Tali nodded. "You'll need two teams to get passed the drones anyway."

"Now we're working with Cerberus?" Prazza cracked incredulously.

"No Prazza," she growled, turning on her subordinate. "You're working for me. If you can't follow orders go wait on the ship." With final consideration, she looked over her shoulder at the N7 marine and his companions. "Head for the warehouse through the center of the colony. We'll circle around the far side and draw off some of the drones to clear you a path."

"Tali!" Shepard called, stopping her from leaving while the other Quarians moved away from the group to prepare for battle. "Are you sure this will work? Your team doesn't seem to willing to have anything to do with Cerberus and their temporary affiliates."

"For good reason," Prazza growled, stopping in the middle of the apartment. "Cerberus killed our people, infiltrated our flotilla and tried to blow up one of our ships."

Silent for long enough, Miranda crossed her arms over her chest and openly stated, "That's not how I would have explained it exactly. It was nothing personal, just a mere infatuation the Illusive Man had."

"That was led by a traitor of our kind that killed innocent Quarians for codes on our whereabouts that you were never entitled to have!" Prazza yelled, swinging his hand in an exaggerated manner.

Huffing, Miranda moved to take a step forward but Shepard's hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Enough!" he intervened. "We don't have time for this. The longer we argue, the less we learn and the sicker Veetor gets. We need to move out."

"Agreed," Tali said, glaring over her shoulder at the Quarian who muttered curses under his breath before joining the others to prepare for the fight.

"Make sure to stay in radio contact," Shepard said finally before he motioned toward the door leading to the middle of the colony.

"Will do," she assured, waiting a moment before calling out for him. "Shepard! Good luck. Whatever happens...it's good to have you back."

Stepping outside into the colony's chilly air, Miranda turned to notice the heartfelt farewell the two shared. When he rejoined his team and the door behind him closed, a luster she had never noticed before left his eyes entirely. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify the shimmer that fell from his gaze as it wasn't fiery enough to be passion nor dull enough to express pure platonic friendship. _'Maybe he was just happy to be around someone he can trust,'_ she thought silently, before Shepard turned his back on them and started to follow a gangway that hung between two walls of stone.

As traditional to the layout of the colony, the gangway led to another apartment house which blocked the way for three security drones to buzz overhead before dropping out of sight. Tali offered a warning, and the team pressed forward; guns ready for the fight as they neared the exit of the warehouse the gangway led to. Shepard glanced around his cover and watched as the drones circled above them before settling themselves on the tops of building complexes. The soldier rolled forward and pressed into the edge of the balcony leading out of the warehouse before the security drones had a chance to fire and injure him. He leaned out of his cover and the battle began, but it ended quickly as both biotics quickly drained the drones of their shields and the machines shut down to favor death by self-destruction.

Miranda smirked as the team moved from their cover and continued to follow the trail through the colony. They had worked excellent together, and her professional opinion assured her they could create a formidable team if they could overcome formalities with the less-than-loyal Commander. But her optimism had been as short lived as their fight with the security drones as Tali's voice projected into her ear; the Quarian distraught and out of breath.

"Shepard! Prazza and his squad went on ahead! I told them to wait but they wouldn't listen! They went to find Veetor and take him away before you get there!"

"Relax Tali," Shepard cooed gently. "We'll get to him."

"We should have expected this," Miranda huffed as the team picked up their pace and started running for the center of the colony. "She could barely command their loyalty with her hand on their guns."

Abruptly, Shepard stilled himself and visibly tensed beneath the bulkiness of his armor. He gripped his rifle and turned just enough to regard Miranda over his shoulder. The fire from their shuttle ride returned to his eyes, and the Officer gritted her teeth as she felt something in her chest contract. She hated this feeling - this feeling of being inferior. "It's impossible to command ignorant imbeciles," he growled; his eyes never leaving her own. "You don't know Tali, so I suggest you not make snap judgments about her."

"We need to get moving," Jacob spoke up, once again trying to appease both parties. "We can catch them, but we have to hurry."

Shepard offered a nod, and turned his back to the two Cerberus operatives. Miranda's fists clenched at her side and she blew a steady stream of air through her clenched teeth. She wanted to thoroughly strangle the man, or at least shoot him for being an asshole, but she knew she could do neither of those things. Her instructions from the Illusive Man were clear and concise but as they progressed through their mission, she had no idea how she was going to handle this flippant renegade who didn't know how to hold his tongue.

_'Bloody rat bastard,'_ she thought to herself as the three of them ran down a stairwell that opened up into another concrete yard much like the one they had encountered at the beginning of the colony. _'Pretentious, superficial, god-like asshole! He should know better than to attempt to belittle me. I'll throw him out of the nearest airlock if he isn't fucking careful...'_

Despite her musings, the team didn't slow and she didn't pull her gun on the man she was so infuriated with. Instead, they proceeded towards another metal door placed in the wall of stone at the far end of the yard and crouched into cover when another force of security drones touched down in front of them. The drones stood erect and began to lock their sights on the Cerberus Officer and N7 Marine that leaned out of cover, but between the anger brewing in the pits of both of their stomachs, the drones didn't stand a chance.

"Damn," Jacob muttered, but Miranda didn't stop to acknowledge his comment. She was quick to stalk after Shepard towards the concrete slab placed a few feet away from the metal door.

"Hurry Shepard, we are inside the loading bay docks," Tali buzzed in, her voice shaking ever so slightly as the sound of heavy gun fire erupted into the team's ears. "Veetor reprogrammed the heavy mech. It's tearing Prazza's squad apart! Get your squad into cover and I'll open the loading bay doors."

"Lawson, Taylor, take cover by the door," Shepard commanded, motioning to the proper points with the nose of his rifle. "I'll take point," and soon after he was pressed against the concrete slab while Miranda and Jacob moved to press against the cold stone surrounding the metal door.

"Tali, we're ready," he said, before a slight buzzing could be heard and the red circle on the metal door turned green before parting.

The three rushed in, and caught sight of Tali retracting her omni-tool before she ran into an apartment building near the door. Across the yard, three Quarians were slowly backing away from a screeching mech that towered over them and aimed the gun installed in its arm at his targets. They turned to run, but the bullets began to ricochet off the surrounding buildings and the bodies of the Quarians. An ear-shattering scream left the throat of the female that was gunned down, and she weakly attempted to push her bloodied, battered body to her feet before the mech stepped forward and crushed her under its feet.

Miranda felt dizzy, nauseous, and weak all at the same time. Her stomach was churning and her fingers began to clench and unclench the handle of her gun in an attempt to get a grip on the situation. She felt sweat drip down her skin and a shiver run up her back as her eyes closed momentarily and she imagined standing in the middle of her father's cold warehouse - terrified and surrounded by darkness. The creaking of the mech brought tears to her eyes and she could feel the pain of being thrown back from the mech's missile attack and scratching open her back on the concrete floor spreading as if it occurred all over again. She heard the buzzing from the mech's missile launcher, and she opened her eyes to see that she wasn't recalling her past trauma, but was instead faced with an imminent threat standing mere feet away from her. She looked around and noticed that Shepard and Jacob weren't by her side and her fear increased. Her biotics began to glow but just as the mech moved to fire, she felt a strong hand on her forearm.

Heat brushed by her side and she gasped as an arm wrapped around her waist and threw her to the ground behind a collection of metal crates. She looked up and saw Shepard standing over her - protecting her. He didn't say a word before he opened fire on the mech and muttered "This is going to be one tough son of a bitch to take down."

Unsteadily, Miranda pushed herself to her feet and began assisting Shepard and Jacob. The two switched between fierce gunfire and biotic onslaughts in hopes of confusing the mech, but as soon as Miranda started attacking, its guns focused on her. Once again, she felt the bullets bounce off the metal pressed against her back, and once again she started to feel scared, but Shepard stayed by her side and covered her when she was pushed back into hiding. When it was Jacob's turn to attack, Shepard touched her arm and pointed to an apartment building on the far side of the yard. She nodded, and as soon as the Commander moved out of cover, she broke away in a sprint until she was save from the mech's targeting. It was here she finally made her stand, and her body hummed as she released biotic shot after biotic shot and the mech's shields and armor were torn away.

She heard grunts through their comm channel and noticed that both Jacob and Shepard were favoring their sides. Still, they didn't stop and biotics laced with forceful shots from the Commander's assault rifle began to drain the mech's health. The mechanical beast screeched and began launching missiles instead of gunfire, and soon Shepard was left open when his cover crumbled. Miranda tensed and she watched as he backed away and attempted to fire the last shots that would shut the mech down, but it didn't stop advancing. She saw the mech raise its arm and her breath caught in her throat before the humming in her ears got louder and she felt as if she was being consumed by fire. Miranda didn't see her arm shoot out, and she didn't feel the painful crack in her shoulder as pure force left her hand and blue energy encircled the mech. All she heard was it release a painful screech before she heard the hurried footfalls of Jacob and Shepard and an explosion rocked the apartment house they hid in.

They all released a collective sigh of relieve, and Miranda looked to see a small hole in Shepard's armor that was oozing blood. He pressed his hand against that hole and looked up at her, simply holding her gaze and not saying a word. For a moment they had reached an understanding. She knew he saved her, and he knew she saved him, but their moment was shattered when he stood and made his way towards the apartment building Tali hid in. Miranda and Jacob eventually stood to follow, and cringed as they caught sight of the decrepit Quarians writhing under the glow of Tali's omni-tool.

"Get Veetor," she said without even looking at them. "I'll take care of the wounded."

Shepard nodded and turned away without saying a word. Grunting, he led the team down the steps and towards the warehouse towards the middle of the yard. Miranda could see blood seeping from between his fingers but as soon as they reached the unlocked door, he stood straight and poised as if nothing was hurting him.

The doors swept open at Shepard's touch and light from outside penetrated the dark room that held a frantic Quarian typing away in front of nine large computer screens that displayed an array of graphs, statistics, and information. The three of them walked in slowly, and as the doors close and silence fell around them, they finally heard the soft mumblings of the man they were searching for. "Mechs will protect, safe from swarms. Have to hide. No monsters. No swarms. No, no, no, no, no."

Shepard took a step forward, but stopped a few feet short of where the Quarian sat. "Veetor?" he asked, his voice cautious and gentle - as if he was speaking to a terrified child.

"No Veetor," the Quarian responded, his voice strained as if he was choking on tears. "Not here. Swarms can't find, monsters coming. Have to hide."

"No one's going to hurt you anymore," Shepard assured, but Veetor didn't respond and Jacob shifted from where he stood.

"I don't think he can hear you, Commander."

Shepard turned back to regard the Operative and nodded before he accessed his omni-tool and typed in commands. Looking up to the nine screens, Shepard arced his hand over them and watched as the monitors stopped showing Veetor's collection of information, and instead blinked with red, flashing triangles that encircled exclamation points. Miranda watched as Veetor sat back, confused and unsure of what was happening. His hands left the keyboard in front of him and he turned around slightly before standing to fully address the Commander. "You are human. Where did you hide? How come they didn't find you?"

"Who didn't find us?" Miranda asked, attempting to soften her voice to match Shepard's.

"The...the monsters, the swarms. They took everyone," he explained, the hysteria rising and breaking in his voice.

"We're not survivors, Veetor," Shepard explained. "We just got here."

"You don't know, you didn't see," Veetor said, taking a deep breath and calming himself enough to speak in a steady tone. "But I see everything," he turned towards his monitors and hit a few keys on the keyboard that hung below. All at once, the nine screens lit up into a single surveillance scene that caught sight of Freedom's Progress. Small bugs buzzed across the camera's view and on the many gangways that hung around the colony, two monstrous looking creatures holding rifles walked beside floating pods that looked like distorted cocoons.

"Security footage..." Miranda muttered, taking in the scene with wide eyes. "He must have pieced it together manually. All other technology has been rerouted."

"What the hell is that?" Jacob asked as the video paused and he continued to stare at the array of monstrous creatures with triangular-shaped heads and bodies much like that of a turian, but more insect-like.

"My god," she whispered, her wide eyes opening even further. "I think it's a Collector."

"Is that some kind of alien?" Shepard asked, regarding the Officer curiously.

"They're a species from somewhere beyond the Omega 4 Relay," Jacob answered, his voice far away and cryptic, as if he was telling a terrible horror story. "Only a few people have ever seen one in person."

"They usually work through intermediaries like slavers or hired mercenaries," Miranda added. "If they're involved with the Reapers somehow, that can explain what happened to the colonies."

The footage continued again, and the four of them fell into complete silence as they watched two Collectors carry a paralyzed human towards one of the open pods before simply throwing him into his own biological casket. Miranda felt that sickening churning in her stomach once again, and as she looked over to the others, she knew she wasn't the only one.

"The Collectors have advanced technology, they could have a weapon that disables an entire settlement at once," Jacob suggested, before Veetor spoke up - his voice once again hysterical.

"The seeker swarms. No one can hide. The seekers find you, freeze you. Then the monsters take you away."

"How did you manage to get away?" Shepard asked.

"Swarms didn't find me," the Quarian explained. "Monsters didn't know I was here."

"The Collectors aren't known for being careless. Maybe his envirosuit kept him from showing up on their sensors," the Operative suggested, before his Officer counterpart spoke up to offer her opinion.

"Or they were using technology specifically designed to detect humans. Only human colonies have been attacked."

Shepard nodded, his hand rising to his jaw and scratching at his stubble-ridden face. He sighed, and looked to Veetor again. "Do you know anything about these swarms?"

"It's how they find you," he offered weakly. "Seeker clouds. Machines like tiny insects. They go everywhere, then they find you, sting you, freeze you."

"Sounds like miniature probes, maybe," she suggested, shrugging her shoulder at the thought. "Find targets them immobilize them with a stasis field or nerve toxin."

"What all do you two know about the Collectors?" Shepard directed at his squad.

"Nobody knows much," Jacob explained. "They're so rare, some people think they don't exist."

"The Illusive Man might know more," Miranda continued. "But I've only ever heard of them. I've never done extensive research on their kind."

Nodding, Shepard turned back towards Veetor and offered a soft smile when he noticed the younger Quarian rubbing his hands together and looking around the dark warehouse. "What happened next, Veetor? After they froze everyone?"

"The monsters took everyone onto their ship, and then they left. The ship flew away, but they'll be back for me. No one escapes."

His voice pained, and suggesting a mental breakdown, Shepard backed off when Jacob muttered "I think that's all we'll get out of him, Commander."

"Relax Veetor," the Commander soothed. "You're safe now. I appreciate what you've been able to tell us."

"I studied them," Veetor spoke up, his voice shaky, but stable. "The monsters...the swarms," he opened up his omni-tool and looked down at its enticing glow. "I recorded them with my omni-tool. Lots of readings. Electromagnetic. Dark energy."

"The Illusive Man needs to see this information," Miranda said. "Let's grab him and call the shuttle."

But she was silenced as the doors at their backs slid open and Tali stalked in. She walked around the group and looked to Shepard before locking her hidden gaze on Miranda. "What?" she asked incredulously. "Veetor is injured! He needs treatment, not an interrogation!"

"We won't hurt him," the Operative assured. "We just need to see if he knows anything else. He'll be returned to the Flotilla unharmed."

"Your people tried to betray us once already," the Officer quipped, motioning towards the door. "If we don't take him, we'll never get the intel we need."

"Prazza was an idiot and he and his men paid for it!" she exclaimed, tossing her head back in emphasis. "You're welcome to take Veetor's omni-tool data, but please...let me take him."

"You know Tali, you could always come with us," Shepard spoke up, a barely-noticeable sadness encroaching on his words.

"Shepard," she sighed before shaking her head. "I would love to...but I can't. I have a mission of my own. It's too important for me to abandon. Even for you. When it's over and if I'm still alive...we'll see what happens."

"Well that sounds dangerous...what sort of mission is it?"

Tali glanced around, taking in the image of both Jacob and Miranda. "I don't think Cerberus needs to hear about it," she approached cautiously. "But it's in Geth space. That should tell you how important it is."

Shepard nodded, and took a few steps towards Tali before he turned to look at his squad mates. "Veetor is sick and traumatized. We can't offer any more care to him and there is nothing we will get out of shoving him into a chair in a claustrophobic room. We will take his data, but he will return home with Tali."

A displeased sigh left Miranda's lips, but the mission had left her exhausted and she had no energy to continue fighting the Commander on his decisions. "Understood, Commander," she stated, her back straightening and her shoulder tensing; evoking pain in the injury she hadn't noticed until that point. She rested her hand over her shoulder and squeezed as she thought that maybe she had been wrong about Shepard, and maybe their understanding was merely his duty to preserve her for future missions. Maybe he wasn't standing over her, protecting her, because he found her an asset. Maybe it was just because he didn't want to deal with another dead body lying around. _'Maybe he's just doing his job_,' she thought. _'Which makes doing mine even harder.'_

"Thank you, Shepard," Tali sighed happily. I'm glad you're still the one giving the orders. Good luck out there. If I can find anything that will help you, I'll let you know."

"Jacob," Shepard shot over his shoulder. "Call the shuttle and you two make your way to the extraction point. I want to talk to Tali alone for a few minutes."

The two Cerberus officials nodded, and helped escort Veetor to the other injured Quarians. Hanging back, Miranda caught sight of Shepard stepping forward and embracing Tali before the doors closed shut. She jumped when Jacob walked towards her and asked her what she was thinking of, but as she regarded her comrade she could only shrug her uninjured shoulder in response.

"I have no idea," she answered truthfully, looking back at the closed doors before walking towards the shuttle landing pad with Jacob at her side. "Just contemplating how peculiar our new Commander is."


	27. Not Today

**An: So I had a minor freak out moment when I looked back on this story and noticed that it hadn't been updated in TWO MONTHS! WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I WAS SLACKING SO HARD?! Nonetheless, I kicked myself into gear and though this is a slightly filler chapter, it's relatively substantial to be a filler. I have every plan to continue mapping this story and writing future chapters as quickly and as best I can. If I can managed to juggle school, work, Zumba, and fanfiction perfectly I'll attempt to restore a routine updating system to this story (which would probably be once every two-ish weeks until I start stock piling chapters).**

**Anyway, enjoy this little bit I managed to conjure and I'm so sorry for the delay. I'll try my best to not let this happen again (because I'll assure you through and through, I'm not giving up on this story).**

* * *

><p>An uncomfortable soreness had settled in by the time the team had returned to Minuteman Station and the effects of mech-fueled adrenaline had worn away to nothing. Muscles screamed with every slight movement, bruises molted large expanses of skin beneath swatches of armor, and an overall sense of fatigue had settled over the three, spent and exhausted from fighting out of sync. Upon arrival to the secure Cerberus station, they were met with paramedics, but Miranda refused the help and immediately took her leave to her terminal. She knew the Illusive Man would call for her sooner or later, but she was sure he wanted to hear what Shepard had to say first.<p>

And as she anticipated, when the medics inspected the Commander and patched up the few wounds that didn't seem to bother him, they directed him to the Illusive Man's company and left the two alone. Once again cast in silence, tension returned and the awkwardness that always settled between Miranda and Jacob became palpable. The Operative looked over to his Officer and sat back, giving an exasperated sigh before he started to speak. "So, how do you feel about the Commander?"

"For a master strategist, Freedom's Progress was an utter disaster. He is a rugged renegade with no regard to anyone but himself, and I merely hope that he figures that out before he gets himself, or one of his team, killed," she grumbled, fighting away the incessant throbbing in her shoulder.

"Wouldn't you be the same way if you woke up one day in Alliance control, and they were forcing your hand like his is?"

"No," she answered stoically. "The threat that has been posed is imminent. A threat that could pose devastating to life itself. I would recognize that threat and do my best to act with a team the best suited and trained to eliminate it. There is more to life than me. I am expendable, so I fight as if it will be my last fight, but do not let carelessness get in the way of progress."

Jacob grumbled and shook his head, shifting in his seat and grunting as he turned his eyes onto the stars sparkling just beyond the horizon. "Ever the Cerberus Officer," he mumbled, knowing full and well that it wasn't Miranda who was speaking, but the Illusive Man himself.

"That is what I have been trained to be," she assured with a slight twinge of sarcasm on her tongue. "Hopefully the reunion with his pilot will help ease his tension some. The sooner we start on this dossier list, the better."

"Dossier list?" Jacob asked, quirking his eyebrow quizzically.

"We can attempt to fight the Reapers as best we can with only three people, but I assure you we will get nowhere," Miranda answered, looking to her omni-tool and running her fingers over the shining keyboard to ensure the transfer of information from her terminal. "If we are expected to succeed we need the best."

"Which includes...?"

"You and myself, a brilliant Salarian scientist, a war veteran and mercenary, a loose cannon gunman, a master thief, a fugitive with excellent biotic potential, an assassin, a Krogan warlord, an Asari Justicar, and a few others that the Illusive Man is still considering," she spouted off, walking away from her terminal with her eyes glued to her omni-tool. "Interesting group he's managed to arrange, though I'm sure they'll all prove useful in the end."

"How does the Illusive Man expect us to convince all of those people to help us?" Jacob asked, a slight hint of exasperation hanging in the air.

"He expects us to make sure the Normandy runs smoothly, keep an eye on Shepard, and do what the Commander asks us to do. Shepard is the icon, he will win their loyalty," Miranda answered easily. "His last team was impressive to say the least. I have no doubt he can accomplish such a feat again."

"But we're really going to trust a master thief and a fugitive with the capabilities to rip the Normandy apart from the inside?"

"There is little on board that the master thief will find attractive, and besides kleptomania is for show. There is no great heist if you 'borrow' a stylus and 'forget' to bring it back. As for the fugitive, I can assure you she, like everyone else, cannot breathe in deep space. If she wishes to tear the Normandy apart, then she will die with the rest of us."

"You're oddly calm about all this."

"Why should I worry about a few more pawns when there are far greater things to be expecting?" Miranda asked, removing her gaze from her omni-tool and raising it to meet Jacob's. "If I were you, I would make sure that all of your belongings have been properly transported to your station aboard the new Normandy and prepare to embark. The Commander should be done speaking with The Illusive Man at any time now."

She nodded, and moved to step away from the Operative; aiming herself for a hallway that would lead back to the small room she had deemed her office for her short stay on the station. "You know," Jacob called after her, making her stall momentarily. "It's not healthy for you to only see the big picture. It may very well get you killed."

She chuckled and glanced over her shoulder. "I would never be that stupid," she assured, before she advanced down the hallway and the doors closed around her form.

* * *

><p>"Do you really trust The Illusive Man?"<p>

"I don't trust anyone who makes more than me, but they're not all bad," the voice of Shepard's long lost pilot, Joker, followed the voice of the Commander and as the two neared the viewing window the sound of their scuffing feet came to a halt. "They let me do what I love, they let me fly, and check this out...they only told me about it last night."

He laughed. He actually laughed, a deep, joyful, rumbling sort of thing. "Well, I guess we'll have to give her a name."

"They boys already have the paint. They're writing 'Normandy' on her right now," there was a sigh, soft and wistful but she couldn't particularly place it to either men. "God, it's good to be home."

"Yeah," he sounded happy, and here she was starting to believe all she would ever hear out of his mouth were clipped comments and sassy remarks. "I guess it is."

"Wait till you see the inside. She looks marvelous. Cerberus did a number to make her the best she can be."

"I'm not gonna lie, Joker. The thought of boarding the Normandy again scares me. We both know how royally I fucked up the first time...what if I do it again? What if I'm not this...untouchable iconic soldier that everyone wants me to be. I'm just one man for Christ's sake."

Miranda gaped slightly, as she made sure to hide her form, but leaned forward enough to hear the interaction between the Commander and his pilot clearly. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but when she noticed the pair walking from the comm room, she thought it best to wait until they passed before she headed for the ship. Much to her dismay they found more pleasure in talking, which while entertaining, was wasting their time. But, she couldn't seem to force herself to interrupt them. Despite Shepard being a royal pain in her ass already, he spoke with wisdom far beyond his years. Still four years younger than her, she knew he saw horror like she never imagined, and his humility towards the Reaper threat was almost touching. In silence, she understood why everyone was so quick to follow him into the throes of Hell, but of course, she would never tell him that.

"Don't worry about it Shep. You died once, and all it did was piss you off. The Reapers don't stand a chance."

There it was again. His laugh. "I'm glad to have you back, Joker. It's nice to have someone around I can trust."

"I'm always there for you, man. Don't forget it, but here's some advice for you. I know I joined Cerberus willingly, and I know the organization as a whole isn't the most trustworthy but it's better to have some faith than to be paranoid. As long as you do what they want, you'll never have a problem."

"I touched down on planet after planet following leads on this damned organization. I saw the wreckage of experiments on rachni and humans that were painful and brutal and crimes against humanity. I've seen the darkest corners of Cerberus, and I know I'll only find more shadows along the way. I would rather be weary and paranoid."

"The Alliance has a dark side too. Try looking for the good things, instead."

"Like what?"

"You're alive aren't you?"

"I suppose," he sighed and his voice took on a tone of resignation. "But there isn't much for me to live for. I'm just here to fight."

"I can't imagine how all of this feels to you. All I can say is keep your head up. You found something to live for amidst the war before, I'm sure you'll manage to find it again."

"I miss her," now it was sadness. Oppressing, and tangible and it made her own chest clench slightly. "She'll never forgive me for this."

"You have nothing to ask forgiveness for. Now come on, enough of this depressing chatter. Let's get ready to go. I'm tired of walking around this station all day."

"You shouldn't be walking around it at all."

"Now you sound like Karin."

"I'm sure she misses you."

"Not as much as you think..."

Back to laughing. So he did have emotions. Miranda smirked from her hiding place and looked around the corner to assure that their backs were turned before she moved into the waiting room. Perhaps she should eavesdrop more often. The Commander seemed incredibly more tolerable now that she knew he wasn't a total prat. "Commander," she said, coming to a halt and placing her hands behind her back. "Jacob and I are ready to board whenever you are."

"Good," he replied, back to the clipped one-word sentences. "I'm ready."

"I will notify the crew to begin final preparations for takeoff. As per usual, they will report everything to you, Mr. Moreau and you will give the final say on departure. Both of your belongings have already been moved to your appropriate rooms on board and time will be given to get acclimated to both the ship, and the crew."

When she stopped speaking, she caught his eye and she steeled herself against such cool, calculating irises. She felt her heart pounding, as if she was prey trapped beneath the shadow of a towering beast ready to devour her, and she felt vulnerable, like he knew every little secret she had tried to keep hidden. He terrified her, which was a new concept, and she never knew how to react when he stared her down. Typically, she preferred to bristle and spit her words in an attempt to gain control, but she has learned, and learned quickly, that he isn't a measly scientist scurrying through the Lazarus Station.

"Thank you," he said finally, and that threw her off almost as much as his unrelenting stare. "I appreciate it."

"O-of course," she responded, stuttering only slightly. "Anything you need, Commander."

Shepard nodded, but didn't come off snide. "I expect everyone to be ready for departure in ten minutes."

"Yes, Commander," Miranda answered, and nodded as well, albeit awkwardly, before she turned and made her way to alert everyone of their impending departure. For a man she had studied for over two years, and a man she had 'known' for only a day, he had an uncanny knack for keeping her on her toes.

He was interesting, and she would be lying if she said she didn't like the challenge.

* * *

><p>Upon the audible closing of the Normandy doors at her back and the soft hiss that proceeded a quick and routine decontamination, Miranda's stomach flipped. Though she didn't show it, she was overwhelmed with excitement and anxiety at being stationed upon a ship. In the past, she was either on a station or planet side, but never on a moving vessel. In her silence she could only imagine all the things that could go wrong by constantly hanging in deep space, but at the same time she could easily imagine all the things that could go right not being confined to one place. Nonetheless, it was her job to make sure the Normandy was in perfect condition and that all upgrades requested by the CO were installed and operational. Such jobs would be best left for an engineer, but if she could master regenerative bio synthetic fusion in a few months she was sure up-keeping the Normandy wouldn't be a problem.<p>

To her left, Jacob stood vigilant with his feet apart and his hands behind his back. Like her, he was more than ready for this mission, but there was pressure upon their shoulders that no one wanted to recognize yet. No one wanted to say that they could very well die on this ship, and no one wanted to say that if they failed they would fail the entirety of organic existence. Miranda stood steadfast in her believe that they would not fail, but it seems no one else could readily share her blind, fearsome optimism.

And standing before her, tall and strong, was their Commander of whom was much more relaxed compared to his disposition on Freedom's Progress. While he was offered the option to change out of his armor, he refused, and she understood why. He wore his armor as if he was born with it on, armed right out of the womb to take on the world. He stood as if he knew he was born for this, but she had heard him say that resigning to such thoughts killed him. He felt like there was nothing left for him if he stopped fighting, so he never did. As the silence surrounded them she wondered what he was thinking about. Did he worry more about their odds of success or what will be left for him if, and when, this war is won?

As expected, he didn't answer her internal questions and merely led them towards the CIC when the doors allowed them access. Around them the crew milled, moving from one station to the other ensuring that the ship was ready to fly and spouting off commands and statistics to each other that she barely heard. The Commander slowed when he reached the CIC's center and his eyes fell on the orange holograph of the Normandy's systems. She could have sworn that he sighed, and that it was almost happy.

"Welcome aboard the new Normandy, Commander," Jacob said finally, as Shepard turned to face the two Cerberus operatives with an almost smile on his face.

"I've been looking over the dossiers and I strongly suggest we start with Mordin Solus, the Salarian scientist on Omega. We know the Collectors use some type of advanced technology to immobilize their victims. We'll need him to develop a countermeasure to protect us," Miranda spoke up, crossing her arms over her chest. She awaited his berating her for speaking, but once again he surprised her.

"I agree."

"Acquiring Professor Solus seems like the most logical place to start," a feminine voice rang around them, one that was obviously synthetic. Behind Shepard popped an orb of blue light, that Miranda recognized from the First Engineer's blue prints.

"Who are you?" the Commander asked, both awe and concern filling his words.

"I am the Normandy's artificial intelligence. The crew like to refer to me as EDI."

He laughed, again, and this time not with anyone who he immediately trusted. "Oh, Joker isn't going to like this..."

"If you are concerned that I helm the ship in place of Mr. Moreau, you are mistaken. I am an Enhanced Defense Interface and I have minor control over the Normandy's defenses. Other than that I observe and offer analysis and advice. Nothing more," the blue orb blipped out of existence, and Shepard once again turned.

"Interesting. Is there anyone else I should meet? I'm sure it takes more than just us three and Joker to run a ship."

"The Normandy is graced with a full crew," Miranda answered, motioning to the people who occupied the CIC currently. "They are at their stations awaiting your orders."

"Final preparations for takeoff are complete Commander. When you're ready, pick a point on the map and I'll chart a course," Joker said, projecting his voice from his place in the cockpit.

"Head for the Citadel, Joker," Shepard responded immediately. "There are a few people I need to catch up with."

"With pleasure," the pilot assured, laughing happily as his fingers ran over the ship's flight controls and the Normandy's engines roared to life.

"Jacob and I should return to our posts," Miranda said, almost quietly. "Jacob will be down here in the armory, making sure our weaponry is operating at top capacity. I am on the crew deck, across from the med bay. Come find us if you need anything."

"What, you're not going to argue on visiting the Citadel?" Shepard directed towards the Officer, with bright eyes and one of those almost smiles on his lips. "Aren't you scared I'm going to go running to the Alliance, abandon you and The Illusive Man, and turn in everyone on this entire ship?"

"While I'm sure you would be ecstatic to do that, no," she assured with the slightest of smirks on her lips. "Not today, at least."


	28. In Transit

**AN: Another filler type chapter before they reach the Citadel, meet Kasumi, and have the fateful and useless meet with the Council (like every meeting with the Council). Hopefully this chapter wasn't too lame, despite all the times I cringed through this.**

**Just do a good deed and be kind. :D**

* * *

><p>"Finally, some commission for all of my work," Miranda muttered as she stepped into her office aboard the Normandy and sighed at the sight of the office that she would be calling 'home.' Graced with a gorgeous view of the stars, adequate breathing room, a sizable couch and a luxurious queen sized bed that would make her four-hour sleep sessions ten times harder to awaken from, she was pleased. More than pleased really, and as if in appreciation of finally having a sizable cabin she stretched her arms over her head and groaned before she propelled herself towards her closet to ensure that her weapons and civilian clothing were transported properly. Upon revealing the small cavity built into the wall, the sheet of metal parted and she smiled when she noticed that the staff had taken it upon themselves to hang up the few outfits she brought to relax in. She wasn't naive enough to believe she would actually manage to get out of her uniform for more than the few hours she took to sleep, but the option was always there if the skin-tight fiber weave became too much for her to handle.<p>

Gripping the edges of her closet, she rolled her neck and stepped away to allow the cavity to be hidden from sight. She glanced around her office again and her eyes fell on her terminal; calling for her attention. "I suppose even in transit there's no time to relax," Miranda muttered to open air before she settled down at her desk and turned on her terminal. Immediately the screen before her eyes blinked to life and in a moment of folly she highlighted the link to the surveillance system that was integrated around the various rooms of the Normandy. As she expected, the different cameras depicted nothing exciting until she caught sight of the Commander standing at the helm, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and body turned towards EDI. The blue orb of light was highlighted in red, and Miranda laughed to herself.

"Sorry Commander," she whispered to the picture. "You're not high enough in the chain to access any information on Cerberus. Anything you wish to learn you'll have to find yourself."

But still he tried, questioning EDI again and again for information only to have the blue orb remain a vibrant red. His once relaxed shoulders and apprehensive smile had dissolved to his usual display of tension and anger and he was in no way happy when he nodded towards Joker and stalked off the bridge. Miranda sighed as she watched him prowl around the CIC before committing to the armory and ran her hand over her face before she closed the surveillance feed and called up her unfinished report to the Illusive Man. While Shepard was an interesting asset to their organization and every bit the phenomenal soldier he was made out to be, he was still a liability at this point and it unsettled her to fly blind.

Regardless there was little she could do safe of hold on and ride out the torrential hurricane that was Shepard. With resignation she turned her attention to her report and rolled her shoulders before her fingers started flying over the holographic keyboard near her lap.

_The investigation of Freedom's Progress was a success. While Shepard is still a rampant renegade in the face of small fights, he acted accordingly towards his status and personality when the team was faced with heavy artillery opponents. Upon investigation of the colony we met a team of Quarians led by Shepard's former squad mate, Tali'Zorah, searching for a lost Quarian on Freedom's Progress for his pilgrimage. Other than Tali, the Quarians were increasingly hostile to our presence and broke their Commander's command in hopes to reach the lost pilgrim before we did. Fatalities occurred, and we managed to speak with the confined Quarian without disturbances. Identified as Veetor, he was increasingly delirious due to complications with his envirosuit and spoke in a trance about creatures that would return to hunt him down (which was reason why he reprogrammed the mechs to attack anything on sight). Shepard managed to calm Veetor enough for him to speak rationally and reveal surveillance footage he had manually pieced together after the attack. The footage revealed Collectors rounding up the citizens with the aid of small bugs that I hypothesize spread a neural stasis field by means of biting. Conclusion was supported upon sight of citizens scattered among the colony in paralysis due to stasis. Further information from Veetor was inconclusive. Salvage and minerals were recovered for upgrade materials and credit opportunities. Specific inventory will be taken immediately and relayed accordingly._

With one final look over her report, she sent the information off to the Illusive Man and stood from her desk with the intention of looking over the salvage that had been placed in the lowest reaches of the ship. Though taking inventory of mineral intake and keeping records of the Normandy's funds wasn't the most exhilarating part of her job, she still appreciated the simplistic relaxation that accompanied counting. This dream of relaxation, like usual, was shattered quickly when the doors to her office parted and in strolled Shepard looking much calmer than he was on the vid, but still relatively perturbed.

"Commander," she said, straightening slightly and bringing her omni-pad close to her chest. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm just looking over the ship and all of her new...accommodations. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" he asked, staring at her before he broke eye contact and looked around the office she was given. "I do have to say you guys made the former Captain's cabin a little more comfortable."

"Cerberus has made virtually everything on the Normandy more comfortable," Miranda stated, stepping from behind her desk. "The Normandy SR-2 is more than a cold cut military vessel and must be dressed accordingly. As for questions, I'm headed down to the cargo bay to look over the few things we managed to pick up on Freedom's Progress. If you're willing to walk and talk, I'm all ears."

Shepard nodded and turned to the side before sweeping his arm out, allowing her to exit her office first before he fell into step at her side and the two headed for the elevator in the ship's center. "So," Shepard started when the doors of the elevator opened and the two stepped inside. "What exactly are your duties, aside from keeping an eye on me?"

"Duties within Cerberus, or duties on the Normandy?" Miranda asked, tilting her head and quirking a wiry smile.

"Both, but start with the Cerberus stuff first."

"Well, I am the Illusive Man's agent, you are his most important asset. My job is to make sure you succeed. Aside from that I send regular reports to the Illusive Man updating our status and act as Executive Officer of the ship, meaning most everyone comes to me when there is a problem so I can fix it."

"I'm sure the whole watching me part is easy with the cameras, right?" Shepard retorted with a bitter tang to his words.

"Cameras are not a new development, Commander," she smirked. "There have been cameras everywhere for almost a hundred years."

"That doesn't mean I still don't value my privacy."

"No need to worry. The bathrooms are clear."

"Oh how delightful," Shepard drolled as the elevator rang out its final warning and the two stepped into the cargo bay that was adorned with huge crates stacked and formed into giant fortresses that threatened to graze the top of the Normandy. "So, what's your standing? Military? Political? Both?"

"Cerberus has several divisions," Miranda began as she walked to the far end of the cargo bay and uncovered the crates of eezo and palladium that had been brought on from the colony. "Military, political, scientific, but we're all working towards the same goal. The cells you encountered before your...accident, were mostly part of our military division but not all Cerberus operations use the same protocols. We try not to get bogged down in bureaucracy or formality."

She huffed as she settled her omni pad by her feet and made her most valiant effort to drag the crates out of their stack after she had counted them without exhausting herself and using her biotics. She grunted and managed to slide the first case of eezo away from the stack but before she could turn towards the palladium, Shepard had already snuck around her and lifted the case off the ground. "Where would you like it?"

She smiled, and nodded her head before she turned and motioned towards the middle of the cargo bay. "Anywhere is fine, thank you."

"You just had to ask, Lawson. I'm willing to help," Shepard teased as he placed the case where she had motioned. "But back to the bureaucracy and formality, I assume conflicts of interest are never a problem then?"

The Operative stalled and looked over her shoulder, eyeing the Commander long enough to make him fidget under her gaze. She smirked and chuckled, tossing her hair over her shoulder while her eyes fell back to the data in hand. "Not at all, Commander."

"And what about your puppeteer? What can you tell me about him?"

"We are hardly his puppets, Shepard, but I can't tell you much about the Illusive Man you don't already know. Even I don't have access to most of his background. And you've seen more of him than most people ever do. It's rare for him to become directly involved in missions but you're something special. Whatever else people might say about him, I can assure you he's got humanity's best interests at heart. That includes you and me."

"Now, is that just me or is someone over compensating?" she could hear the smile in his voice as he carted off another crate, and she turned just enough to see a flash of dimples and white teeth. A small laugh escaped her and she shook her head in response to his prodding, whether it be playful or malicious.

"No, just confident," the Officer assured. "I didn't get where I am today without being able to gauge people's emotions and motives. Even from brief encounters. He's no saint and he'll be the first to admit it, but he's committed. Humanity couldn't have a better advocate."

"Well personally I could list a few but that's beside the point," he added, interrupting her counting by sitting on the crate of platinum that she was standing in front of. She glared at him, and he shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm getting tired."

"Well then don't volunteer to help."

"Take a break Lawson, tell me what these 'goals' are that we're looking at. Total human monarchy over the entirety of the galaxy? Anti-human annihilation? Mutually assured destruction?"

"Cerberus' long term goal is to advance humanity as a race, nothing more nothing less," she almost spat, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "The Salarians have their STGs and Asari's have Commandos. Humans have Cerberus."

"But STG and Commandos are government run agencies," Shepard pointed out as he casually reclined against the other crates at his back.

"True. Cerberus is privately funded and we act in isolation. Our brokers trust the Illusive Man to make the right decision and we act accordingly but he is very clear about our goals: protect humanity and serve its advancement."

"We, we, we, yet you are the only one speaking. What about you, Lawson?" he asked, mirroring her crossed arms. "What is there to know about you?"

"Hmm, well I suppose that's fair," Miranda mused with a shrug of her shoulder and a well placed smirk. "I've spent two years learning everything there is to know about you. I suppose you should know that I've had extensive genetic modifications. That's why the Illusive Man handpicked me. I'm very good at just about anything I choose to do."

"You're humble, I find that charming," he drolled sarcastically. "What extent of modifications?"

"Very thorough," she answered through gritted teeth. "Physically, I'm superior in many ways. I heal quickly and will likely live twice as long as the average human. My biotic abilities are also very advanced, for a human. Add to that some of the best training and education money can buy and, well, it's pretty impressive really."

"So you ARE Miss Perfect!"

"Maybe I was meant to be, but I'm not. I'm still human, Shepard, I make mistakes like everyone else and when I do the consequences are severe. Everyone expects a lot from someone with my...abilities."

"You certainly don't lack for confidence," Shepard deadpanned with a sardonic grin on his face.

"They are simply the facts Shepard, there is no use hiding from them," she answered with a voice much weaker than she intended. Her eyes instantly fell to the ground and her chest clenched like it always did when she thought of how the world looked at her when they knew what she was and what she was meant to be. She hated it. She hated that her father still managed to have this phantom-like hold over her, constantly terrifying her even though he was nowhere to be seen. She hated that she couldn't even stand in front of a mech without freezing , and could very well be dead had the Commander not been kind. She hated that he made her weak.

Miranda jumped and gasped audibly when she felt a hand gently circle around her upper arm and looked up quickly to meet Shepard's eyes. They were stormy; lost like she was feeling, but at the same time understanding of what she was going through. His thumb brushed against the fabric of her uniform and she relaxed against her better judgment. "I...I wish I could say I couldn't imagine that sort of pressure, Miranda."

Her name sounded so sweet when he said it and instantly she was tense, confused and overwhelmed between his proximity and her thoughts. She stepped back; out of his grip and out of his reach before she steeled her shoulders and faced him head on. No matter how comforting he was trying to be, and despite if he was acting solely because he was good person she still couldn't trust him. "Everyone has their demons, some more than most. Nonetheless they are pointless and should be overlooked in their entirety. There is much more to worry about."

Shepard's shoulders dropped and his eyes flashed to something she imagined was disappointment before he too put up his guard. "Right, back to the Cerberus facade. Excellent. Thanks for the chat, Lawson, be ready to dock on the Citadel in two hours time."

"Of course Shepard," she said as he hastily stalked away and fled to the solace of the elevator. She didn't watch as the doors closed around his image and she didn't look up from the floor until she muttered "Whatever you need," to open air and continued to take inventory.


	29. The Council

**An: Allow me to, once again, apologize for how much I have been sucking when it comes to updating. After school ended, my summer was consumed by work and now I'm encroaching upon my last few weeks before I head off to college, but while it make take a while for me to pump out chapters, please know and understand that this story will never, truly, die. Mass Effect will never become boring for me (as apparent by my 7+ play-throughs of the second game, doing the exact same thing over and over again) and therefore, this story will never become boring for me.**

**As always though, I adore you all and I applaud you for your patience with me. Hopefully, I'll be able to find more time to write, though with school coming I'm not entirely sure.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>The Citadel. A seven billion ton colossal space station that has become home to more than 13.2 million life forms fifty thousand years after its initial construction. It was marvelous really, and extremely breathtaking to those that appreciated its history and resilience. And if that didn't please the viewer, the huge arrangement of light fixtures throughout the wards would be enough to catch the attention of the dimmest creature alive, but instead of being awestruck she felt something close to apprehension. The last time she had been on the Citadel was after her escape, with her baby sister asleep against her chest and a toxic mixture of hatred and fear consuming ever fiber of her being. As the five long arms of the Citadel blocked the view of the stars from her office window, she could feel that fear and hatred returning, as if she had just run away the night before. This Citadel, as amazing as it was, held nothing but demons and bad memories for her, and as she looked down at the insignia that adorned her chest she knew that the station would be populated with more than enough assassins, gang leaders, and security officers that would love to have her head.<p>

"Yeah, the uniform probably isn't the cleverest of ideas in this instance," Miranda huffed in contemplation, crossing her arms under her chest before she moved to consult her closet. "I'm not about to go in there unarmed...but some regular clothes couldn't hurt."

So she busied herself with her disguise, and aimed for a look that would help her hide the shivering, weak seventeen year old girl that was threatening to return.

* * *

><p>When she finally joined Shepard and Jacob in the CIC she was pleased to see that she wasn't the only one thinking of their affiliation. While she had slid into a tight pair of jeans and pulled a pressed black jacket over a soft blue blouse, Jacob had opted for a t-shirt and zip up hoodie that easily hid a portable shield generator and the pistol he had pressed against his ribs. Shepard opted for a pair of jeans and a tight, black N7 t-shirt that left little to the imagination about the musculature of his chest. She felt something pull from deep within her, and felt an oddly overwhelming urge to tear that shirt clean from his body, but at the same time she was weary. He seemed relatively unarmed, but she had a feeling that he had tricks up his sleeve that could rip the life from a man faster than any bullet.<p>

"Good, now that we're all a little less noticeable, maybe we can slip through customs and security with as little trouble as possible," Shepard said, urging the other two to follow him towards the hangar. "C-Sec has beefed up security a lot within the past year. They are sending a skycar to pick us up and transport us to security."

"Excellent, and when their state of the art DNA scanners rove over you C-Sec will have a bloody field day," Miranda retorted, already quite well versed in the security upgrades the Citadel had received within the last few years.

"I can't stay dead forever," he responded with a shrug of his shoulders as the doors to the hangar closed behind them and the air pressure equalized enough for them to walk onto the metal platforms that acted as the ship docks.

"Welcome to the Citadel," said a rather boorish Turian covered head to toe in perfectly polished blue armor. The officer stalled for a moment, no doubt regarding the team behind the visor that covered his eyes before he twisted and pointed at the red skycar to their right with the barrel of his rifle. "I'm sure you're all aware of the requirements to pass through security before being permitted to access the station. The car's automatically wired to take you to customs. Just jump in and hit the big green button."

"Alright," Shepard answered, with a calm collectedness about himself that visibly set the guard at ease. "I hope we haven't caused any trouble to you officer."

The turian responded with an nonchalant shrug. "Just a few lapses on your ship that's all. It's currently unregistered within our records, but we're doing a thorough scan now. Until we're complete it will be grounded, but you don't seem to have anything to hide."

"That's no problem, I understand your precautions. If you have any questions our pilot is right inside the door. Just explain your position and he will be glad to help," the commander responded, and with a final nod of his head, took leave of the C-Sec officer.

"Don't you think they'll wonder about the ship when they search it? We don't look like we're soldiers," Jacob asked as he ducked into the back seat situated behind Shepard.

"The Citadel is full of soldiers, assassins, thieves, and some of the greatest crime bosses known to this century," Miranda answered, taking the seat beside Shepard. "And none of them look the part. C-Sec will be more concerned trying to figure out how Shepard came back to life than the crates of weaponry locked in the cargo bay."

"And hopefully I can alleviate that concern the second we step through customs," Shepard said after her, closing the car's doors and sending it to levitate over the platform before it zoomed towards its predestined coordinates. "I have much more to worry about on this visit than Security breathing down my neck."

"I'm sure the Council will be delighted to see you," Miranda teased, meeting the Commander's eyes with a playful smirk on her lips.

He looked at her, and for a moment all she was met with was that impassive stare that gave no indication to what the man was thinking. His eyes, as blank as the rest of his expression, seemed to tear her apart from the inside out and her heartbeat began to falter until she caught the small smile that turned up the corner of his mouth. He let out a small chuckle, and shook his head before muttering "Shut up, Miranda," and returning his eyes to the scenery that was zooming past them.

She laughed and followed his eyes, and suddenly all of her doubt and all of the fear that surrounded this place mysteriously disappeared.

* * *

><p>The sight of customs was an interesting one to take in as the car landed and the team slowly emerged from their transport. Like the rest of the Citadel, this wing was alight with a variety of neon lights that cast a multitude of colors into the shadows that clung to the corners. People of all races, colors, heights, and denominations milled around, all equally angry at the single human woman who was standing behind the desk currently arguing with a disgruntled turian. Miranda smirked as she took in the sight and relaxed the tension that seemed to always appear in her shoulders when she was presented with crowds. The logo of her workplace was no longer a label on her chest, and no one would immediately avert their eyes to her in suspicion. If anything, she was nothing more than a normal woman visiting the Citadel...that is as long as everyone forgot what the great Commander Shepard looked like.<p>

"Commander Shepard!" she heard the name clearly through the buzz of people and physically jumped from her reverie. She cursed under her breath and caught a small smirk on the mouth of the Commander before he motioned her towards an advertisement positioned toward the far east side of Customs. The advertisement held the face of a young woman shadowed under a hood with strange purple markings on her face, who smiled as if she was the sole guardian of the world's greatest secret. Miranda instantly knew who she was.

"Commander Shepard," Kasumi repeated, the advertisement flashing in and out of focus momentarily. "Enter the password and receive a free gift!"

Shepard stood before the advertisement and reached his hand up to scratch at his jaw. His eyes roved around their immediate area, and he took a few minutes to assess their situation before he opted to settle his hands on his hips in surrender. "Silence is golden."

The advertisement smiled, and the woman laughed happily. "It's good to finally meet you Commander. Kasumi Goto. I'm a fan."

"What's with the secrecy?" Shepard asked, once again casting his eyes around them in hopes to catch sight of the hiding thief. "Are you in trouble?"

"I'm the best thief in the business, not the most famous. I have to cover my tracks to keep it that way," she responded, keeping that all-knowing smile on her face. "I also needed to make sure all this was legit. And I have no doubts now - you're the real Commander Shepard. It's been quite a long time. I might have a thing or two to learn from you in the art of disappearing."

"Well it wasn't exactly painless," he responded. "But what exactly makes you so sure? Anyone could walk through here with a fake face."

"There's an aura about you," Kasumi stated, suddenly serious and Miranda silently sucked in her breath. She knew exactly what that aura was, and even still it was something to get used to. For as long as she could remember, she was the leader...the one with that 'aura', but now she was nothing more than a pawn. He intimidated her easily, but she refused to let him know he had that power. "You've seen things no one else has," the thief continued, articulating all of Miranda's thoughts for him to hear. "You wear it on you like your armor in battle, or a tattoo on your skin. It's a part of you, an irrefutable part; a part that no impostor could replicate. Even without knowing what you looked like, I could look at you and tell. I just knew it was you."

The Commander seemed to take that in for a moment, shifting his weight as he looked at his feet before meeting the eyes of the advertisement in front of him. One of his rare, breathtaking smiles touched his lips, only for a moment and then he nodded his head. His modesty preserved, Shepard changed the subject towards their work and simply replied with "Have you been briefed?"

"Honestly, I'm shocked they didn't come to see me sooner," the thief responded, avoiding the name of their organization with ease. "My fault for being hard to find I guess."

"I have to say, I have never fought alongside a thief on the battlefield. I'm not sure how useful you'll be, but I'm sure you'll be quick to show me. Welcome aboard," Miranda's mind reeled at those words, and she silently reveled over the fact that whatever a person's skill set may be, they would throw themselves into the fires of hell without a second thought solely to try and please him. It reminded her of visages of great fantasies, but he wasn't some fabled king. He was a living, breathing man; twice alive and scarred with every single one of his memories. He was so very much alive, and greater than any king that had ever lived before him.

"The pleasure is all mine, Commander, though I'm already settled on the ship so the welcome isn't necessarily," she chuckled at this statement, before sighing softly. "I'm really glad you're helping me with the heist. I can't wait to see you in formal wear."

Suddenly, his proud shoulders fell and his face was wiped with confusion. "Excuse me?"

"They didn't tell you? And they call me secretive. I'm looking for my old partner's graybox. A man named Donovan Hock took it, and I'm planning to get it back."

"I'll take care of it."

"What?" Kasumi asked, feigning hurt. "Not curious?"

"Call me old fashioned, but I don't think confidential information should be discussed through an advertisement," he said shortly, but his voice held humor instead of malice.

Suddenly the advertisement lowered into the ground and from the rafters appeared the young woman portrayed on the screen seconds ago. In the flesh, it was clear that she was built to be a thief. Even though she was suspended high above them it was clear that she was short and lithe; the perfect build to slide through the tightest of spaces and contort through the most awkward situation. She was born and bred for her kleptomania, and the smile that she wore was nothing short of proud. If anyone managed a glimpse of her, they would see her success worn around her shoulders like a shaw, but of course that would alert attention and she was the mousey type to avoid the eyes of many.

"Point taken," she responded, leaning against one of the rafters and looking down at the team with a smile. "Besides, you look silly talking to an advertisement. I'll see you on the ship Shepard," and with a flippant two-finger salute she disappeared into thin air.

Beside them Jacob released a long sigh and laughed almost nervously. "Interesting company, don't you think."

"Very," Miranda nodded.

Shepard turned to look at her, a sense of seriousness falling over his features. "You helped with the research on these people, do you think she'll be any trouble aboard?"

"Not at all," she responded with a shake of her head. "Kasumi aims for big hits; expensive pieces of art, heavily guarded government documents. A cache of ammunition will mean nothing to her, especially since she can just take an elevator down a few floors and take whatever she may please."

"Good," he muttered, urging the others to follow him as he breezed past the human girl and turian who continued to argue and stepped up to the C-Sec officer that was manning the security panel. A translucent beam brushed over the three of them, but while Jacob and Miranda passed the cursory scan, Security was alerted on Shepard's part.

"Shut it down!" a turian identified as Sergeant Haron spoke into the radio piece wired into his armor. "What? Seriously?" the turian released a heavy sigh before his hand fell and he looked at the three standing in front of him. "My apologies sir. Our scanners are picking up some false readings. They seem to think you're - ah - dead."

"I was," Shepard answered. "Listed MIA two years ago. I was hoping to fix that."

"Understood. Head through the door and speak with my Captain. He'll be on the right. He can reinstate you in our systems," Haron responded, tapping a few keys before him that opened the doors to the rest of the Citadel.

As instructed by the Sergeant, they ushered themselves forward through the doors and stopped as they approached a desk occupied by an older, rugged, blonde soldier. His worn grey eyes rose as the three came to hover over the edge of his desk, and he sat back from his computer momentarily. "Ah, I already see the problem Commander. My console says your dead."

"I assume you're the man who can fix that, Captain?" Shepard asked, squinting momentarily to read the title that was sewn into the soldier's uniform.

"Well, usually you would have to go through SSA, Customs, and stop by a treasury as 'spending a year dead' is a popular tax dodge," Captain Bailey rambled off; slowing his speech to a halt as he caught sight of the dissatisfied look in the Commander's eyes. "But I can see you're a busy man. So how about I just push this button and we call it done?"

"Are you sure that won't land both our asses in jail...Captain?" Shepard bristled, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

"Listen, Commander, there is no way to fool those DNA scanners. You're you. Why wait in long lines to get to the same point when I can make this all go away and you can go on about your business. I'm sure you have nothing to hide, and if you do I know you won't cause too much trouble."

"Then by all means," the Commander nodded, giving the Captain permission to take to his keyboard and type in the commands needed to reinstate Shepard to the land of the living.

"Done," Bailey finished. "You should head up to the Presidium. The Council would like to know that one of their lost Spectres is still kicking."

"Before or after a couple hard shots?" Shepard asked, and the Captain responded with a laugh.

"After. Definitely after."

"Good man," the Commander said, waiting for the Captain to raise to his feet before the two soldiers shook hands and parted on a salute. "Thank you."

"No problem. If you need anything else, let me know," and then finally they were free. They walked off into the bright lights of the Citadel and looked around as people roamed about, shopped in the near by shops, and lounged on the comfortable couches that lined the walls. The drone of voices was constant, and Miranda swam in and out of different conversations as they crossed to the rapid transit station that was present on the far side of the room. As they passed, she caught ear of krogan gossiping about fish in the Presidium lakes and chuckled at the imagined sight of the two large monsters tearing through the water in search of fish that weren't there, before she came to the conclusion that it wasn't common knowledge that the Presidium lakes were the space stations water supply.

"Distracted Lawson?" Shepard's voice once again shot her from her reverie, and she looked up into his stormy blue gaze with a smile.

"No," she answered, leaning against a nearby pillar and glancing around as they awaited a new skycar that would transport them to the Citadel's esteemed government seat. "Just taking in the environment is all, listening for anything useful."

"And what did you gather from all of your reconnaissance?" he asked, nodding to Jacob as he strayed away from the group to talk to a volus about the array of cheap, used video games they had for sale.

"The dark haired woman in the blue dress over there is worried that her date won't show up tonight, and her friend in the green dress is trying her best to calm her down but it's obvious that her patience is growing thin," she relayed, seeing the Commander's smile in the corner of her eye. "Those two men over there are discussing the latest Blasto movie and how quote unquote 'epic' it was, and the two krogan over there want to fish in the Presidium."

"They'll be disappointed to know there's no fish in the Presidium," he responded, laughing lightly as he looked at the two krogan that continued to gesture and murmur about the fish long after the team had passed.

"I know that, and you know that, but they don't seem to have that information," Miranda answered, shifting against the pillar so her shoulder was pressed to it and she was facing him. "How do you think this meeting with the Council will go? Their resources are unmatched by many and they would be a strong asset to have."

"I know," he nodded. "I know I need to get on their good side and get my Spectre status reinstated so I can gain access to the armory but my patience wears thin quickly with those pompous assholes. It won't go well, I can tell you that now, but I'm enough trouble for them to offer me Spectre requisitions to stay out of their way."

"Will you be alright?"

"Lawson," he practically bellowed, pressing his hand to his chest. "I didn't know you cared!"

"Don't flatter yourself, Commander,"she sneered with a playful glint in her azure gaze. "I'm just making sure my investment is sound."

"Don't worry, you'll be able to sleep tonight Lawson. You're investment will do just fine," Shepard assured just before the car touched down beside him and Miranda ducked into the passenger's seat while the Commander called for Jacob. The soldier slid into the backseat with a bag full of video games and his eyes alight with excitement, his constant chatter filling the car as he talked about the different story lines that encompassed each fanciful land and each character that helped in shaping the timeline of a world settled in a dimension deep into the future.

The drone of Jacob's voice followed them as the skycar soared above and beyond the wards of the Citadel, passing over homes and restaurants and bars full of people that refused to give any sort of care to the danger that was looming over the horizon. There was no war on the Citadel; no fear or wrong doing either, unless the station itself was split in two or you were being held at gun point by thugs in an alley that should have been avoided. The thought made her sick, and all she could muster to associate with this astounding piece of Prothean technology was the lost memory of the sister she could never see again.

"Have either of you seen the Presidium?" Shepard's voice broke through her thoughts, but she refused to look at him for longer than a second for fear that he would notice the misty and far-away look in her eyes. Though, much to her relief, Jacob was happy to spark back into conversation having fallen silent after realizing no one was listening to him.

"I can't say I have," the soldier answered. "Anytime I have been on the Citadel...well, I suppose I can simply say that it was never centered around the embassies."

Shepard offered only a slight node to assure the man that he understood, and she felt an unnerving prickle brush against the back of her neck as she turned her head and noticed that those cold blue eyes were locked on her. "What about you, Lawson?"

Miranda managed to suppress the urge to squirm under his gaze, and simply averted her eyes to the window. "Once," was all she offered to respond with. The fleeting gaze at the embassies was barely able to be considering a 'visit' as her first and only priority at the time had been protecting her infant sister. Thinking back on it, she couldn't remember what the Presidium looked like, and instead all she could picture were bright blue eyes that were hauntingly familiar.

But Shepard didn't know about her past. He didn't know about her sister, and when it came to Miranda, he barely even knew her first name, so his understanding of her silence was limited and the skycar fell into a tense silence before the engines roared in response to bringing the vehicle to a hover above the landing pad. Slowly, they were settled on the ground, and Shepard released the hatch that lifted the doors simultaneously. "Good thing we decided to hide the logos," he observed, and without a sideways glance to assess the feelings of his squadmates, the Commander was on his feet and stalking towards a particular hallway that was littered with diplomats and soldiers alike.

Jacob followed more closely, quickening to a trot to fall a few steps behind the marine as he followed the signs that pointed to the office of Councilor Anderson, former Captain of the Normandy SR-1. She, was content to hang back, but knew that witnessing the Council meeting could be beneficial not only to their mission in particular, but to Cerberus as a whole. Seeing how the Alliance government truly deliberates, and exactly how pig-headed each representative was wouldn't necessarily be new information, but the Illusive Man would no doubt adore to hear her input on such a situation. So she pushed forward, arms crossed over her chest and her nerves keenly aware of each and every weapon that was hidden amongst her disguise.

She slipped into the room closely behind Jacob, and glanced up when she heard unique voices filling the room. Anderson's was the most prominent and she pressed her back against the wall as the human Councilor turned to Shepard and muttered: "We were just talking about you."

Shepard, though, seemed ecstatic to see him, or at least as ecstatic as she had ever seen him, and the two comrades quickly linked hands. "It's been a long time, Anderson. I hope politics have been treating you well."

"As well as they can," the former Captain assured, a modest smile touching his lips that held significant wrinkles around the edges. "It's good to have you back."

Miranda sunk into a nearby couch and crossed her legs as the rest of the Council chimed in, a unique sense of dread and excitement boiling deep in her stomach. "We've heard some of the rumors regarding your 'recovery'," the Salarian Councilor offered, obvious distain dripping from every word. "Some were quite...unsettling."

"We called this meeting so you could explain your actions, Shepard. We owe you that much," the Asari paused to compose herself; linking her fingers in front of her and holding herself more like a disgruntled parent as opposed to a political leader. "After all, you saved our lives from Saren and the geth."

"Sovereign's geth," Shepard corrected instantly, his shoulders tense and a tic already present in his jaw. "Though, don't expect me to be eager to cooperate. You made every step to defeating Sovereign a living hell, and I don't forgive easily."

"We offered this meeting as a sign of peace, Commander," the Turian spat. "We have nothing to apologize for."

"Except inevitably killing millions by getting in my way," Shepard suggested, the loose control he had on his temper disappearing entirely. "Or does your political high horse place you above blame for that as well?"

"We have grieved for the lost just as much, if not more, than you have Shepard," the Turian responded once more. "But in this current position you are lucky to be having this audience at all. Considering your recent alliance with the band of terrorists that have paid you."

"Cerberus is the last thing you should be worrying about! If anything you would attempt to either work with them, or match them in skill because they are the only ones working to defeat the Reapers-"

"Ah, yes... 'Reapers,' the immortal, sentient race living in dark-space. We have dismissed that claim!"

Shepard's fists clenched, and Miranda sighed softly as she watched him coil; like a cobra ready to strike and kill anything that got in his way. "Were you too scared to look out a fucking window?" Shepard asked, swinging his arm towards the balcony in Anderson's office. "It was hard to miss!"

"Shepard," Anderson stepped in, and rested his hand on the Commander's shoulder. "No one else was with you on Ilos. No one else spoke to Sovereign directly. Look, I believe you, but without evidence from another source, the others think Saren was behind all the geth attacks."

"Saren was indoctrinated," Shepard growled as he turned to regard the other Councilors again, obviously trying to keep his composure and failing miserably. "Nothing more than a pitiful, powerless pawn. Just because he happily kissed your asses doesn't mean a constant whispering couldn't drive him crazy. On levels of pure, untainted intelligence, the geth are far superior to any organic. Try walking up to a geth, with hostile intentions, and giving it orders. Actually, ask the Quarian race how that development would turn out. The geth would never follow Saren, unless he received the same virus they had. Sovereign's virus."

The Asari chimed in before the others could retort. "Saren was a charismatic and compelling individual. He made the geth believe the Reapers were real, just as he convinced you."

"It was part of his plan to attack the citadel," the Turian furthered. "The Reapers are just a myth. One only you insist on perpetuating."

"We believe you believe it," the Asari quickly followed, interrupting Shepard whose ears had flared an almost unnatural red color. "But that doesn't make it true."

Shepard was at his peak, and he turned his back on the Councilors and walked away; rubbing his hand across his buzzed head and massaging at his neck. His sigh was heavy, and his eyes closed as if he was trying to find some semblance of sanity to help him through the situation. He glanced at Miranda, and a soft smirk followed the gentle raise of her shoulders. Both of them knew this was how this situation would go, and both of them knew that the Council would never be any true help. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he growled, turning on his heel and looking over at her once more before staring straight into the eyes of the Asari Councilor. "But Cerberus looks amazing from here."

The Officer laughed, flippantly flicking a stray piece of hair over her shoulder. "Mind putting that in writing for me?"

The surprise to hear another voice was apparent on the Councilor's faces, and Shepard's face lit up with glee at their instant nervousness. His eyes fell on her again and he matched her smirk, nodding his head and muttering "Absolutely," before the Asari cleared her throat and interrupted the conversation.

"We are in a difficult situation, Shepard. You're working with Cerberus - an avowed enemy. This is treason, a capital offense."

Shepard's mouth opened to argue, but Anderson stepped forward; resting his hand on Shepard's chest and pushing him back. "Shepard is a hero! I'm a member of this Council and I won't let this whitewash continue."

"Maybe we can reach a compromise, then. Nothing public. Just something to show peripheral support," the Asari offered with a gentle sigh of her own.

The Turian regarded her, and while it plainly displeased him, he took up where she left off. "Shepard, if you keep a low profile and restrict your operations to the Terminus Systems, the Council is willing to offer you reinstatement as a Spectre."

His eyes found her again, as if asking a question. She nodded, only once, and he turned back to respond. "Unfortunately, the greater good is more important than me telling you all to screw off. I accept your offer."

"Then may we wish you the best of luck," the Asari responded and then, finally, they were all gone.

"Well, there you have it," Anderson huffed, shaking his head and running his hand down his face. "You realize, though, that the Council's offer is merely symbolic. They won't actually do anything to help."

"As long as my codes are good and they stay out of my way, I couldn't care less what those pricks do," Shepard responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Just keep to the Terminus Systems and I'll keep them off your back."

Shepard offered a nod, but then all four pairs of eyes in the room turned to the sound of doors sliding open. The earlier tension present with the Council returned tenfold, and the team of three all shifted as if to make their hidden weapons easier to draw, especially as they caught sight of the wrinkled skin and pressed white dress clothes of the man who walked in.

"Anderson, we need to talk about-" Udina froze in his tracks, his eyes wide and full of terror. "S-Shepard! What are you doing here?"

The Commander smiled, his eyes dark with a predator-like hatred that he knew unsettled the small man with a big mouth. "Surprised?" he asked in response, rolling his shoulder and regarding the muscles along his arm curiously. "I think death suits me. What do you say Udina?"

"W-well I've heard you're alive, of course," the man stammered. "I just didn't expect to see you on the Citadel."

"What? And miss out on a heartfelt reunion with the Council?"

Immediately, the fear present in Donnel was gone, and instead remained nothing but unbridled rage. "WHAT?" he bellowed, looking, instead, to Anderson. "Councilor, do the words 'Political Shit Storm' mean anything to you?"

"Relax," Shepard chuckled, closing the distance between him and Udina and clapping him on the shoulder. "Everything went fine."

Miranda snickered, and suppressed her gentle laugh at both the aspect of the so called 'reunion' going well, and the obvious grimace Shepard's show of friendship had caused Udina. The sound immediately caught the Ambassador's attention, and his face fell into a poor mask of disinterest over apparent fear. "Delightful, you've brought your henchmen."

"Can you blame me?" Shepard asked, walking towards the corner she occupied, but stopping and turning on his heel before he reached the coffee table that was settled in front of the couch. "I've never had henchmen before."

"Councilor," Udina huffed. "You shouldn't have taken a step like this without my consent-"

"I make the decisions, Udina," Anderson growled, cutting off the mousy man and freezing him in his tracks. "Maybe you should return to your office and ponder on that fact."

"Yes," the Ambassador drolled. "Councilor. Good day."

Not a single being in the room was saddened to see the Ambassador leave, but Anderson was clearly exhausted after having had to deal with Udina and the Council in such a short amount of time. "Sorry about that," he started, once again returning to running his hand down the length of his face. "Udina's never gotten over the fact that I got Council position instead of him. Sometimes I need to put him in his place."

"Why don't you fire him?" Jacob asked from his tense position leaning against the wall. "It's obvious he wouldn't be missed."

"Which is a drastic understatement," Shepard added with a smirk.

"He has his uses," the Councilor explained. "And endless connections. Plus he's always happy to attend all those formal diplomatic functions I can't be bothered with."

"A suit never did fit you quite right," Shepard agreed, walking closer to his former Commanding Officer and resting his hand on his shoulder. "But you're the better man. So, how have you been, Captain?"

Anderson smiled and gently tapped Shepard's ribs. "Serving on the Council wasn't how I planned to spend my twilight years. Most times I feel like I'm beating my head against a wall. Knowing the truth about Sovereign is brutal. Pure nightmare stuff. I can't blame others for not believing it, but I know how important it is, so I keep trying. Fight the good fight, right?"

"The best," Shepard assured, removing his hand and crossing his arms over his chest. "You know, you could always come with me."

"I'm too old, and as much as I complain, I have an important job here. The front line...that has to be you, Shepard."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," the Commander nodded and bowed his head. Silently, Miranda wondered exactly what Shepard was thinking about, and what kind of gears were turning in his mind, but she didn't have time to dwell on the way he held himself in regards to knowledge of where he belongs before Anderson snapped him out of his reverie with a smile.

"Go," Anderson ordered. "Get out of here. I'm sure you have much more important things to do. Just, do me a favor."

"Anything," the answer was quick, deep, as if it once lived in the very core of the man she could barely understand.

"Be careful," was all he offered, but anyone could hear the words that were left unspoken between the two. While Anderson genuinely cared about Shepard's safety, he was worried about more than just a gun shot wound, and wanted to say more than a simple 'Be careful'. She knew he wanted to add 'You can't trust Cerberus,' but didn't out of some sick view of courtesy.

And the way Shepard tensed his shoulders and offered a curt nod in response meant more than the simple idea that he would refrain of throwing himself into idiotic danger.

It meant that he knew that those he was surrounded by couldn't have good intentions.


End file.
